HTLJ: One Day
by Arianna18
Summary: What would Iolaus' life be like if Hercules were no longer with him?
1. Chapter 1

Cerrillos has documented the two past events of Medea's encounters with Jason, Hercules and Iolaus, in her stories, 'Old Blood' and 'Flesh and Blood'. Her chronicles, available through the Library, are a richly detailed description of the choices and actions which led to the outcomes told here. Readers are strongly encouraged to review those events, to understand the twisted evil which led the witch to seek such a terrible, and tragic, retribution.

I thank Cerrillos for allowing me to reference her stories, in this continuation of the conflict between Medea and Iolaus.

Prologue:

She smiled grimly in satisfaction. In all the years, she had not forgotten his perfidy, nor her desire for revenge. Her hatred had grown like a serpent, fed by her malice, until it consumed her, drawing her back to Greece to seek him out, to spew her venom, and poison his world. Having decided to act, she was frustrated by the need to wait, to find the right moment. It had taken months of tracking by her agents, and she'd been increasingly infuriated that her quarry never seemed to follow any predictable pattern, wandering from one town to another when called by someone who needed them. It had been impossible to anticipate where they'd be for long enough to make her move.

But now, now she knew. And she was ready. He'd pay for what he'd done to her...he'd pay with his heart and his soul, for the rest of his life...he'd pay forever....

* * *

Chapter One:

It had been a particularly busy, tiring year...and Iolaus had to admit, he wasn't getting any younger. The truth was, he was beginning to dread the day when he wouldn't be able to act fast enough, run far enough, jump high enough, or fight hard enough to be of use to Hercules. Iolaus refused to acknowledge his exhaustion, refused to accept that the years were beginning to weigh him down. His soul was fed by Herc's seemingly endless strength, and boundless youth, allowing him to carry on, pushing his own aches away, letting the force of his own will cover the diminishing energy and reserves of his body. It would be years yet, before he had to bow out. Years of watching his buddy's back, and of enjoying the hours of his company. Years of making a difference, of taking on and stopping warlords who'd gotten out of control, monsters who were wreaking havoc. Years and years, yet. He smiled at the thought.

Still, he was glad of the break. They'd decided a week ago to take some time off, to kick back and relax. And they knew the perfect place. So, they'd been walking at a steady pace, not rushing but enjoying the crisp fall air, knowing there was nowhere they had to be, nothing they had to do, but make their way back to that special place they'd enjoyed since they'd been boys.

Iolaus was gleefully anticipating the fishing, and he'd be glad once they'd finally arrived.

"Finally," Iolaus exclaimed as they started off along the road up into the hills, heading for his absolutely most favourite fishing hole in all of Greece. It was high in the forest, a little stream emptying from the snowcapped peaks above into a deep, turquoise pool before tipping over the edge of the plateau to fall in a sparkling waterfall down further into the deep green forest below. It was quiet. There were no monsters, no warlords, no upset or frightened villagers...just a little meadow with late fall wildflowers, the shimmering pool only slightly larger than the competition field at Olympia, shady pines, whispering ash trees, and birds, squirrels and rabbits, in case the fish weren't biting.

Paradise.

Herc grinned at his partner, catching the enthusiasm. They'd been on the road for months, hurrying from one crisis to another, without any breaks, and they were tired. The peace and quiet would do them both good. Herc had quietly put the word out that they would be away for a few days, so that no one would worry about them, or more importantly, try to find them. He knew as well as Iolaus did that the hunter wasn't getting any younger. His buddy needed this break and Hercules was determined that they would have a great time.

They'd found the place years ago when they were kids, out exploring the hills around Thebes once Alcmene had decided they were old enough for overnight camping trips. They tried to get back at least once a year, more often when their lives permitted the indulgence. There weren't many who knew about the place, or where it was. Just very old friends, and their families, people they had gifted with the experience of sharing the peace and beauty with them.

Oh, it didn't hold perfectly happy memories. Some of the people who'd gone there with them were now gone, most very tragically. Sometimes, in quieter moments, they would each see their families there, the children playing in the sun, their wives relaxing away from the chores of their homes. Or, sometimes they'd see the families of friends, good friends, families who were no more. But, somehow, the place never lost its magic, never held the pain, only the joy they'd always known when there. So, the memories which might have stung brought instead echoes of happinesses long past, nostalgic memories of the most joyous times of their lives.

It was an enchanted place, one they both treasured, one they were both eager to visit again. It had been too long.

It was late in the year, though, later than they usually chose for a few days up there, high on the mountain. It might be cold during the nights, very cold. Iolaus shrugged away the worry. If it got too cold, well, there was a village not all that far away where they could buy or borrow a couple of cloaks.

Nothing was going to ruin this trip.

Nothing could.

Several hours later, they climbed up through the high mountain village, stopping to chat with old friends and to get some lunch at the local tavern. They had a hearty meal of boar stew, fresh bread and ale, Iolaus indulging his sweet tooth with a generous portion of honeycake, while Herc munched on an apple. They gossiped with the other men in the tavern, exchanging the news of recent events, catching up on the life of the village since they'd last been there. They relaxed in the warmth of the hearth's fire and comradely laughter. To the extent that either of them had a home anymore, this was it. A place that had always been theirs, with people who were known and trusted.

During the discussion, they were cautioned by concerned friends that winter seemed to be coming early this year, and it might be cold...might even snow. Such an evil thought caused Iolaus to shiver dramatically, drawing another round of raucous laughter. His anathema for cold was well known. He'd made a joke of it, but he really didn't like the cold and wondered if they shouldn't prepare for it. He cast a wry look at Herc, who never seemed bothered by incidental things like the weather. Maybe it was just another sign that he was getting old.

But, that wasn't true...he'd never liked the cold, never. He remembered their first trip up into the mountains in the early spring, so long ago now, to find the cave of the snow bear. They'd found it. And they'd found a lot more besides. They'd found the absolute trust which had grounded their friendship ever since, taking it past the the escapades of youth into something profoundly solid and dependable.

Still, he really hated the cold, so, when they were passing by one of the last cottages, and the old woman hailed them to gossip for a while (she'd always liked these boys), and she mentioned she had a couple of good warm cloaks if they needed them for a few days, they gratefully took her up on her offer. It never hurt to be prepared.

Watching them walk off into the forest, she smiled after them. They were good men. She sighed, going back into her little, thatched cottage. They'd sure known hard times, the both of them. Why, for almost a year, they'd all thought Iolaus was dead, killed by that terrible demon. But, Hercules had helped him find his way back, thank the Gods, and they'd been together again now for, what? Going on ten years, she figured. Well, it was a good thing. Good for them. Good for Greece. They'd never stopped doing everything they could to help folks in trouble. Yes, they were good boys.

She wondered if she should have mentioned having talked with a stranger passing by the day before. The unknown woman had looked familiar, but the old one hadn't been able to link her features with those she had known but a time or two more than twenty years before. She'd been pleasant, friendly, and obviously well set up. On a journey for old times sake, as she'd explained, she'd just been passing by, visiting places she's stayed years ago. The two of them had gossiped about who still lived around here, and the stranger remembered tales that Greece's two most renowned heroes sometimes camped nearby. The old woman hadn't been able to resist reminiscing about the boys...and commenting that she hadn't seen them for a while, so it was likely they'd be back again soon. As soon as she'd said it, the stranger had shivered a bit in the fall air, and had generously remembered the extra cloaks she had in her baggage. Without hearing a word of reluctance or thanks, she'd left the cloaks in case the lads passed by so late in the year and had need of them. A nice woman, the old crone thought. Wish there were more like her in the world.

But, it had slipped her mind. Things did these days. Still, she should have acknowledged the kindness of the woman, leaving those cloaks behind for them, just in case they needed them, the nights growing so cold and all. Ah well, she'd tell them when they came back after their little holiday up by the pool.

If she remembered.

Cackling to herself, resigned to her absentmindedness, she picked up her needlework and carried it back out to sit in the warmth and brightness of the afternoon sun.

* * *

It was with a sigh of immense satisfaction that they arrived up by the pool late in midafternoon. Dumping the cloaks he'd been carrying at the base of a fir tree, Herc set up the camp, while Iolaus cut two fishing poles from a nearby ash, trimming them with the knife he and Herc had made together so many years ago. Slipping it back into its sheath behind his back, he pulled the fishing line out of his pack, and the hooks, and it wasn't long before they were both stretched out on the bank of the crystal clear waters, backs leaning against rocks which had been warmed by the sun.

Iolaus took a deep breath of the cool mountain air and smiled contentedly.

Herc grinned indulgently at him, "Having a good time, my friend?"

"You know I am, Herc. Gods, I love this place," Iolaus replied with a grin, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"I know what you mean," replied Hercules, leaning back, closing his eyes, enjoying the sunlight, the fresh scent of the air, the quiet. "Sometimes, I wish we never had to leave."

"Hmmm," murmured Iolaus, leaning his own head back, completely relaxed.

They dozed for awhile, rousing when the poles jerked in their hands, whooping like boys at the size of the fish, each one vying to get the biggest one. Finally, the sun setting behind the mountain, the air cooling off, they built up the fire and speared the fish on short stakes to cook over the flames.

Once the sun was completely down, they could feel the bitter chill in the air. Iolaus shivered as he pulled blankets out of his pack to lay on the cooling earth. Herc ambled over to where they had dropped the cloaks earlier, and shook them out. He grinned when he saw the disparate sizes.

"Hey, look Iolaus, made to order!" he called laughing.

Iolaus looked up, brows raised as he noted one was very long, cut wide and deep, while the other was a less generous size. "Well, that's convenient," he called back good-naturedly. At least, they wouldn't be haggling over who got the warmest one. He caught the one Herc threw at him, and pulled it around his shoulders. Hercules carried his own back, only wrapping it around himself just before he sat down again by the fire, surprised it covered him right to the ground, leaving only his neck, forearms and hands, and boots clear of the generous material. It wasn't often he found a cloak long enough for his lanky form.

Hercules shifted a bit, thinking it felt a little rough against his skin, prickly, almost like tiny burrs. But, he ignored it. Beggers can't be choosers, and it would be better than freezing to death when the temperature dropped even further during the night. The bite in the air was already sharp enough that he knew even he'd feel the cold. Glancing over with a warm grin, he could only imagine how much Iolaus would be complaining about it before morning.

They talked quietly for a while, feeding the fire, reminiscing about other times they'd come here, and about some of their more memorable adventures. Iolaus had Herc roaring with laughter with his exaggerations and droll commentary on some of their less noble and heroic moments, like the time Herc had been turned into a pig, or the related incident later when Iolaus had been chained to Autolycus, and they'd both been morphed into clownish beasts by a vengeful Ares. The hilarity distracted Hercules from the increasing irritation of the cloak. Must be something in the material that irritated his skin, he thought in passing.

The two of them had piled enough wood near to hand earlier to feed the fire through the night. Relaxed, happy, they wrapped their cloaks securely around themselves and finally bedded down to sleep, content to know they had several more days of relaxation ahead of them.

* * *

Hercules' had slept badly. The cloak seemed to scratch and burn more as the night wore on, causing him to shift restlessly. It was only the cold which kept him from flinging it off in irritation. Once, he glanced over at Iolaus, marvelling that his buddy didn't seem the least bit bothered. The garments were made of the same material, so Iolaus' had to be as rough, but the hunter slept blissfully, snuggled in the warm wrap. Sighing, Herc shifted again and drifted back into a restless sleep.

It was sometime toward dawn when Herc woke with a scream, feeling as if his body was on fire. Iolaus woke immediately, scrambling to his feet, terrified by Herc's frenzied voice.

"Get it off me!" Hercules roared again, writhing on the ground, rolling to his knees, fingers clawing at his shoulders to tear the cloak from his body. Iolaus dove to his side, not understanding, just knowing his buddy was in trouble, not yet having taken in the extent of the agony which was tormenting Hercules. Iolaus grabbed at the material, pulling hard, but Herc shrieked at the new hideous torment. It was like having the skin pulled from his bones, tearing while it burned with a hot fire.

Iolaus pulled his hands back, not knowing what to do, confused, increasingly terrified. "What?" he cried. "Herc , what's wrong?"

"The cloak," Hercules grated, as he thrashed madly, but couldn't free himself. The cloak had melded to his body, it's millions of tiny hooks having worked through his clothing to penetrate his skin so that cloak could not be removed without taking the skin as well. Worse, once the hooks had anchored in his skin, they'd left the tiny, countless holes necessary for the acid to find its way into his body. It was burning, now, eating through his skin to the muscle beneath.

"Iolaus! Please," he cried, shaking in torment, unable to think past the pain, "Help me! It's burning me!"

"Burning!" Iolaus whispered in stunned horror. Gods, what could he do? He pulled again at the cloak, unable to understand why he couldn't just fling it off his friend, but Hercules yelled at the assault, pulling away so hard that Iolaus had to stagger for balance.

"It's...it's grown into my skin," Herc moaned, gritting his teeth, trying desperately not to scream in helpless torment. "I can't get it off! Gods! It's eating me alive!"

Frantic, not knowing what else to do, desperate to find some way to put out whatever fire was torturing his friend, Iolaus scooped up his sack, dumping it out as he ran to the lake and filled it with the cold water, racing back to pour it over Hercules. And again. And again.

But, it wasn't working. Herc writhed on the ground, anguished keening wails searing past his throat, until he would lose control and scream at the agony. Each time a scream broke loose, it took every ounce of his strength, of his control, to choke back a continous shriek of torment. He'd never known such pain, never imagined it could ever exist.

Iolaus held him by the shoulders, never having felt so helpless, or so desperate in his life. He didn't know what to do, didn't know how to help. Gods, it was a nightmare.

Finally, desperate, Hercules rolled himself over and over toward the pool, Iolaus helping, once he understood, to ease him into the water. But, the cold only seemed to fuel the fire, and Herc cried out again in agony, deep, gutteral screams he couldn't control.

Terrified, digging his heels into the bank, Iolaus exerted all of his strength to drag Hercules back out of the water. Collapsing with Hercules on top of him, he squirmed until he could wrap his arms around his friend's shoulders, holding him.

"I don't know what to do, Herc. Gods, I don't know what to do," he sobbed, feeling the waves of pain shuddering through his friend's body, helpless to stop it.

Hercules laid back against Iolaus, weeping from the pain, his head curled under his friend's jaw. The cloak was eating through his muscle, to bone, eating him alive, like acid.

He was dying, he knew it, burned by an insidious fire.

And there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.

"ZEUS!" Iolaus screamed over the horrible keening from Hercules. "Gods, ZEUS! PLEASE!" Hugging Herc as tightly as he could, he shuddered with his sobs. "Hercules!" he moaned, knowing it, whatever 'it' was, was killing his friend and he couldn't stop it. "Oh gods, Hercules."

"No use," Herc gritted through clenched teeth. "Nothing...you can do."

"Noooo!" Iolaus cried. "Herc, you can't die...."

"Iolaus...I can't stand it! Help me," his best friend begged, "help me end it."

Iolaus shook his head, then laid his cheek against Herc's hair, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't do this. He couldn't.

Beyond his own agony, Hercules could feel Iolaus' shudders of grief and denial. Bad as it was, beyond endurance, he couldn't ask Iolaus to kill him, even in mercy. Gods, there had to be a way to make it stop! There had to be some way he could end it himself. If he could have moved his arms enough, he'd have demanded the knife he knew Iolaus carried. But, he couldn't...his arms and hands had lost their capacity to move to his throat.

"Please, Iolaus," Hercules gasped, begging, tears blinding his eyes and staining his cheeks, "build a pyre...." It was the only thing he could think of. He could light the pyre himself, so that Iolaus wouldn't have to do it, wouldn't have to be the one to end his life. All he needed was wood, and a lighted torch in his hand.

When Iolaus still hesitated, Herc screamed again, "HELP ME!" and, again, with hoarse desperation, "STOP THIS!"

Sobbing, Iolaus carefully laid Herc back onto the ground and stumbled to his feet. Scarcely able to see for the tears which filled his eyes to overflowing, he gathered wood, piling it in the clearing next to their camp, not far from where Herc was writhing on the ground. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He prayed to wake up, prayed to find it was all a horrible dream.

But, Herc's moans, and keening wails, told him it was all too real.

Gods, who had done this? Why?

"Hurry!" urged Hercules, his voice a gutteral growl. He didn't want to think about what was happening under the cloak, didn't want to think of a body ravaged by the fire that now gnawed at his bones. The agony was so great, he could scarcely think at all. He just wanted it to end.

Iolaus staggered back, and bent to lift his friend's shoulders, then dragged Hercules backwards, toward the pyre of wood he had built. Finally, at the low pyre, he hauled Herc over and onto the wooden sticks and branches, then covered his friend's body with his own cloak, an unconscious, pitiful gesture of protection, leaving only his best friend's face open to the air before he piled more wood around his friend's body.

Herc nodded, his eyes pressed tight shut, his jaw clenched as he tried to endure these last moments before he could be released from the horror.

Iolaus stumbled back to their fire, and thrust in a dry shaft of wood, to create a torch. Once it was burning well, he carried it back and stood by the pyre, his hand trembling. He couldn't do this, oh gods, he couldn't....

"I can't," he sobbed, knowing he was letting Hercules down. "Herc, I can't do this!"

Hercules shuddered. "Give me...the torch," he growled, scarcely able to speak any longer, the pain was so all consuming. The fingers of his left hand twitched, eager for the torch. "Put it into...my hand," he groaned.

Shaking his head, wanting to refuse, but knowing he had to do this for Hercules, Iolaus leaned down, putting the torch into his friend's trembling fingers, but Herc couldn't hold it. He no longer had the strength, and the torch just dropped from his nerveless hand, rolling down and away, the pyre not catching.

"Iolaus, please," he moaned, desperate for release, driven past his sorrow at making this last demand by an all consuming desire for death, for anything which would bring peace, "please, help me...."

Iolaus turned his head away, every fibre of his being shrieking against this abomination, against the Fates that had brought them to this. He shuddered in grief and hopeless despair, his heart shredded in helpless agony, when Hercules screamed again, unable to hold out against the blistering, festering acid which burned deep within him.

He had to do it. For Herc. To end a hopeless, hideous torment. He had to do this.

Stiffening, he turned back, like a man in a trance, his movements awkward and tight.

Bending to retrieve the torch, Iolaus fell to his knees by the pyre. Reaching out with his hand, he touched his best friend's face gently, with infinite love. Then he bent and kissed Herc's forehead. "Be at peace, Hercules," he whispered through his tears, as he shoved the torch into the pyre.

"I love you, Herc..." he choked, "Oh gods, Herc...forgive me...."

His hand slipped back and grasped the knife they had made together so long ago, then, holding his breath, choking back his own scream of anguish at what he had to do, he pulled the weapon around in one smooth motion and plunged the blade down through the cloaks covering Hercules, deep into his best friend's heart, silencing the screams.

Ending the torment.

Herc's eyes held a moment's awareness of peace and aching gratitude before they clouded, emptied of the spirit which had lit Iolaus' life.

The wood was dry and caught fast, the flames leaping up, lighting the night. Iolaus fell back, away from the heat. Rocking on his knees, one hand over his mouth, and the other curled around his body, the bloody knife still clenched in his hand, he sobbed his friend's name, over and over, watching the flames curl around Hercules' body, consuming it.

"NOOOOO!!!!!" Iolaus screamed, curling over, in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his body.

"NNNOOOOOOO!!!!" his cries echoed up to the skies, mindless with a grief which stripped all other emotion from his heart, leaving his soul in tattered shreds.

He didn't see Zeus come for Hercules' soul. Didn't see his best friend's spirit rise from the pyre, a golden image of light beside his father.

Iolaus was only mortal.

He couldn't see gods.

* * *

He was curled, trembling, on the ground, in the cold light of the dawn, staring past the knife still clenched in his hand, at the blazing pyre.

Hercules was dead. Gone. He couldn't get past it. His mind shocked by a horror he couldn't accept, oblivious to everything but the flames, he didn't hear her approach.

"Why?" The thought played over and over endlessly in his mind. "Why did this have to happen? Why?"

Then, even that thought was banished, and all he could whisper was his friend's name, "Hercules. Oh, Hercules...."

In her arrogance, she had come alone, to lurk in the shadows of the forest and watch all that transpired. Now, she stood but a few feet away, glorying in her victory. It had been all she'd imagined, better than she'd hoped for. It hadn't been part of her plan that it should be his hand which had finally killed his friend. She'd known the acid would do the evil deed, given sufficient time. But, this was better, much better. She'd revelled in every moment of it, as she'd watched from the shadows.

Finally, unable to contain her evil delight and satisfaction at such a perfect revenge, she laughed.

Iolaus jerked, shocked by the harsh, cruel sound. Looking up, he saw her, and lurched to his feet, shaking his head, not wanting to believe his eyes. Knowing it was true. Knowing the witch had done this.

"Medea," he grated. He'd hoped never to see her twisted beauty again. Hoped she was burning somewhere in Tarturus, burning forever.

But no, she was alive. She was here.

"Yes, Iolaus, Medea. Medea who you betrayed with your lies. Medea whose son you stole away to give to his worthless, faithless father. Medea," she said harshly walking toward him. "Medea who has made you pay with the life of the one you loved best. Your acts against me earned his death."

Iolaus looked from her to the pyre, and understood. Herc had died to serve her vengeful, evil soul. She'd killed him, with forethought and malice. She'd chosen to torture Hercules until he'd wished only to die.

And why?

Because Iolaus had rescued her child, rescued him from a certain and terrible death at her hands. Medea was evil incarnate, mad with soulless desires to murder and destroy.

She'd killed Hercules. The best man Greece had ever known. She'd killed him...and she was laughing with frightful glee at her hideous act.

Laughing.

Without conscious thought, Iolaus whipped up the knife he'd clenched unwittingly throughout the past hour and threw it at her, all in one smooth, cold motion. The blade buried itself in the centre of her twisted black heart.

She staggered, gasped, then with her last breath, still laughing in triumph, she cursed him with the truth, with the hateful, empty future.

"You can kill me, Iolaus," she whispered venomously, "but it will never bring him back. By your hand, he is dead."

Then, she collapsed to the ground, her staring eyes continuing to taunt him until the insane light in them faded away.

"I should have killed you years ago," he rasped, with no vestige of guilt. It was an execution, plain and simple. He'd done the world a favour by taking her out of it, his only regret was a pain he'd live with for the rest of his life.

If he had killed her years before, Herc would still be alive.

'Why?' he'd wondered for hours. Now he knew.

Because of him. Because of his act so long ago.

Hercules' life was the price she'd chosen for retribution.

Then he turned away from her body, falling to his knees facing the remains of the pyre.

"I'm sorry, Herc," he wept. "Gods...I'm sorry."

* * *

He sat there until the flames turned to ash, and the ash cooled, thinking, remembering, weeping. It was over. Hercules was gone. The sun crossed the sky and sank into the west, the shadows gathering around him, and still he sat, oblivious to the chill. Oblivious to everything but the grief and sorrow which consumed him.

Hercules.

Finally, he stood, a man stunned, lost and alone, aching with the realization of all that must be done, one step at a time. He had to gather what was left of Hercules for a memorial...the very word made him flinch with the memory of the stone obelisk Herc had once carved for him. He'd hoped he'd never have to know that pain, bear that loss, that inescapable, final parting from his best friend. The loss of a life which had always meant more than his own. He'd thought they'd have years...that he would go first. Had thought that was inevitable, despite the scattered visions in the moments after he'd been hit by lightning. But, Herc had gone in flames, so he guessed absently, irrelevantly, that someday people would fly in large metal birds.

Staggering a little in his dazed state, he found a wide piece of bark to use as a tool to scrape the ashes into a pile. Then, he bent to get his sack, intending to place Herc's ashes within it. But, when he stood and turned back to the burned remains, a sudden wind blew up from nowhere, catching at the ashes and lifting them, bearing them away from him.

"No!" he protested, running a few steps, his hands up to capture all that was left of his friend, but he faltered, stumbled, realizing there was no way he could catch them back. He bent his head, tears on his cheeks, standing helpless to hold even this last mournful bit of what Hercules had been.

The wind swirled the ashes up and off the mountain, blowing them across the great span of Greece. Hercules had been the greatest hero Greece would ever know. Let the mortals build shrines, temples and statues in remembrance of him. Throughout his life, he'd loved the land and its people, and it was in remembrance of his love for them, that a Goddess had decided his ashes should cover their land, forever.

But, Iolaus couldn't know that.

He could only know there was nothing left of the man who had meant more to him than life itself. In the gathering dark, he stumbled to the place where the ashes had been, laying his hands upon the cooling, blackened ground. It was with surprise that he felt something solid there. Frowning, he dug a little and pulled up one of Herc's gauntlets. Made by Hephaestus to honour the strength of the arms which had borne them, they were indestructible. Iolaus dug for the other, and finding it, held them both to his heart, his head bent as he cradled them to him, wishing he could once again hug Hercules, tell him how much he had meant to Iolaus, say all those things which had always been in his heart.

"I love you, Hercules," he whispered, his voice ragged, "You know that...you always knew that. But, gods, Herc, I don't know how I'm going to make it without you."

Somehow, he found himself sitting by the pool in the light of a new dawn. He didn't know when he'd retrieved the knife from Medea's sprawled body. He didn't remember wiping her foul blood from it's edge. He just knew he was holding it now, remembering the day it had been made. Remembering how it's use had been perverted during his battle with Herc over Xena, and he wondered again at his betrayal. Felt the shame of it, the guilt and grief.

'This knife was never made to take your life....' He remembered saying that, as he lay in the dusty yard where they had battled...and he wept again at the cruel, bitter irony of the Fates.

He let the blade slide against the edge of his neck, and thought it would be so easy. So easy to just give up now. What was the point, anyway, without Hercules? What did his life matter? But, his face crumpled, and his chest heaved with the sobs he tried to trap there. He couldn't. Couldn't face Herc on the Other Side if he took the coward's way out. He had to go on. Not for himself, but for Herc.

Because Hercules had always believed in him, and even now, he couldn't let Herc down.

He looked out across the pool, glimmering peacefully in the sun's early light. They'd always loved this place. Herc had said he wished they'd never have to leave it. "Oh, Hercules," he whispered, laying his head back against the rock behind him, closing his eyes. Wishing he could as easily shut out the pain.

He was alone. Alone as he had never been, not since that day he'd spotted the shy, gawky kid across the school yard, being tormented by older bullies, trying as Iolaus had not known then, not to hurt them with his strength. But, Iolaus had gotten to know that strength, and not just the strength of the body. But, of the heart, and of the soul. Strength he'd never known before and would never know again. He was alone, but he didn't grieve for himself. He grieved for all the people who had loved Hercules and who would never see him again. And he grieved for those who would need his friend's strength, only to learn that he was gone, no longer there to stand between them and what threatened them. No longer there.

Gone.

Finally, in exhaustion, Iolaus slept, the knife set aside, the gauntlets again cradled in his arms. He slept, by the edge of the pool in the place they had loved so well....the place Herc had said he wished he'd never have to leave.

* * *

It was another two days before Iolaus could bring himself to leave, to face the world, but he knew he had to go. He set off back down the mountain, avoiding the village, the pathways, and the roads lower down. He kept to the trees, unable to face anyone yet. His first duty was to go to Iphicles, and tell him what had happened. And, then, he'd tell Jason.

But, he'd never tell either of them who had done this. No one would ever know. Long before, in the years when Jason and Medea had first married, they'd come to the pool with Hercules and Iolaus, and later, they'd brought their children. It was how she'd known to find them here. However she'd managed the matter of the cloaks, she'd known they would come, and she had been waiting.

They'd all been friends then, in those faraway days. But, Medea had gone mad, and finally, her madness had driven Jason away. Iolaus knew he could never tell Jason that Medea had done this, or why. She had tortured Jason enough in years past. She'd used the same stuff to kill their children, and the woman Jason had come to love. He didn't need to know she'd killed Hercules, too, as the price for Iolaus having rescued his last child, and for bringing that child home to him.

Iphicles first, and then, Jason. After that, he didn't know what he'd do.

He felt guilty even thinking about the rest of his life.

* * *

"Iolaus."

The voice drew him from the depths of his exhausted slumber. He'd been traveling for three days, and was now only one day away from Corinth. Unable to go further, he'd collapsed where he found himself, deep in a forest. He'd gathered the twigs which lay close to hand, and built a small fire. He'd not eaten since Herc had died, wasn't hungry, and had lost track of the days, knowing only that it had been a week or more. It didn't matter, nothing mattered. He'd just curled on his side and fallen into a dreamless sleep.

"Hmm?" he murmured, still more than half asleep.

"Iolaus, wake up."

"Nnnuggghhh," he muttered, resisting. "It's late...."

"Come on, Iolaus, I need to talk to you," the familiar voice demanded, drawing him further away from sleep.

"Alright, Herc, alright," he mumbled, then froze. Hercules?

His eyes flew open and he pushed himself up from the ground. "Hercules?" he whispered, his eyes wide and then his face lit with a smile of infinite happiness, "Herc! You're back!" he cried.

"Not exactly," Hercules replied, with a troubled frown.

It was then that Iolaus noticed that his buddy didn't seem quite substantial, that he shimmered a little in the light of the fire. Confusion filled his face. "I don't understand...did you slip past Hades or what?" he asked softly, sitting back, renewed sorrow filling his eyes.

Hercules shook his head. "No," he replied with a sheepish look. "I'm not dead, well, not exactly...."

Iolaus shook his head, and rubbed his eyes, beginning to think he was still really asleep. He'd wanted to see Herc again so badly, his mind was playing tricks on him, filling his dreams with what could never be.

Hercules saw the confusion, the doubt and the pain it brought, to the gaunt, weary features of his friend, and he hastened to explain softly, "Iolaus, just as I was dying, Zeus came for me. My mortal half is gone, burned away. But, the other half is a god," Hercules explained, watching his buddy's face, watching Iolaus struggle to understand.

"A god?" Iolaus repeated. "You're a god?"

Herc nodded, glumly, "'Fraid so."

"You're kidding," Iolaus murmured, feeling joy build within him. Herc wasn't dead after all! A grin broke across his face. "A god," he breathed.

Hercules threw him a chagrined look, and shook his head. "I'm not sure this is such a good thing..." he muttered, looking away from the relief and delight on Iolaus' face.

"How can you say that?" Iolaus protested. "Of course, it's a good thing! It's great! Herc, you're not dead!" His voice cracked on the last word, and unbidden tears filled his eyes, testament to the grief and sorrow he'd borne. "Oh gods, Herc," he whispered, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

Hercules' eyes came back, to see Iolaus stumbling to his feet, awkward in his eagerness. "Can I...can I touch you?" Iolaus asked, hesitating.

Herc stood then, too, holding out his arms, and Iolaus charged into them, hugging his buddy as if his very life depended upon it. Sobbing. Herc's arms came around his best friend, to hold him close, his own eyes glimmering with tears. "Easy, Iolaus...it's alright," he murmured.

Finally, Iolaus sniffed, and pulled himself back, embarrassed as he wiped a hand over his face. "I...sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart. It's just that..." he had to stop, and swallow, had to catch his breath. Sniffing again, he looked up at his friend. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, caught between heartbreaking joy to see Herc and an aching hurt that his friend had let him suffer so long not knowing.

"I did!" Hercules protested, not understanding. "I came right away!"

Iolaus gazed at him wordlessly, then, "Right away? Herc, it's been a week...."

"What?" Hercules replied, shocked. "A week? No, it can't have been...."

"Trust me, buddy," Iolaus replied, wearily. "And every day of it was endless."

Herc studied Iolaus, saw his gray pallor and dishevellment, looked around and realized they were no longer at the pool. "But...gods, Iolaus...a week?" he answered, his tone lost.

"Yeah, hey, it's okay. I know time isn't the same when you're measuring forever. It's okay, really, I'm just so damned glad to see you," Iolaus hastened to reassure his friend, realizing Herc hadn't meant to hurt him, hadn't left him grieving hopelessly.

"I'm sorry," Hercules replied, laying a hand on his buddy's shoulder, remembering what he'd gone through when he'd thought he had lost Iolaus to Dahok, and when he'd known he'd lost him to the Light. "I didn't realize...."

"I know," Iolaus replied softly, letting it go. What did it matter, HERC WAS ALIVE! His grin again capturing his face, he waved at the ground, "Sit down, Herc...you can stay, right? You're not just dropping by?" he asked, caught by a new, sudden fear.

Hercules shook his head, but didn't reply. However, he did sit down, and looked like he was going to stay a while, at least. Waiting until Iolaus had dropped down beside him, Herc explained, "I wanted to let you know...to talk about what it means...."

Iolaus bit his lip, holding back a moan at the words. Hercules had become a god before, and although he'd seen him briefly once afterward, he'd quickly come to understand his fears at the time were true. Herc had had another existence on Olympus, one that didn't include their partnership. Looking away to hide the pain in his eyes, he figured it was going to be the same thing all over again. Sighing, he thought that at least it was better than believing Hercules was dead. A lot better.

Hercules had paused, noticing Iolaus' reaction, wondering how to explain. "Iolaus, please...just listen for a minute, okay? This isn't easy...."

Iolaus nodded and looked back. "I understand, Herc...or, at least, I think I do. You can't stay."

Herc looked away, his face drawn. "Iolaus, my mortal half died. I'm not the same person. I'm one of 'them'," he muttered, the disgust in his tone all too evident.

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Hercules," Iolaus replied, a hint of laughter in his voice, only to have Hercules whirl on him.

"It is a bad thing!" Herc exclaimed. "You know what they're like, only worried about themselves, petty, spoiled, self-absorbed! Even the best of them can't be counted on, not unless there's something in it for them. Gods, Iolaus, I hate being like that!"

Iolaus gave Hercules a quizzical smile, protesting, "But, you're not like that, you'll never be like them."

"But, that's the point, Iolaus...I'm exactly like them now. And that means I'm dangerous." He reached out to grab Iolaus' shoulder, to make him understand how scared he was, only to have Iolaus wince from the sharp pain, try to pull away. Hercules jerked his hand away, horrified.

"Oww!" complained Iolaus, loudly, rubbing his shoulder. "What was that for?" he demanded, indignant, until he registered the horrified look on Herc's face.

"Gods, I might even hurt you!" Hercules cried, turning away, standing, only to have Iolaus jump up and grab him.

"Herc, wait, I'm okay! What just happened?" Iolaus demanded, uncertain and very worried.

Hercules looked down at the ground. "I told you. I'm different!" He turned back to face Iolaus, his face drawn with sorrow. "It was the mortal part of me, Iolaus...that cared if I hurt anyone, that remembered to pull back. It doesn't even occur to me now! I've lost it! I've lost who I was!"

"Wait! Hold it!" Iolaus said, holding up his hands. They both needed to calm down and figure this out. "Herc, I can't believe that. If you didn't care, you wouldn't have come back to tell me that you're, well, that you're not dead. You wouldn't feel bad about hurting me and you sure wouldn't feel bad about not being able to feel bad. C'mon, Herc...we can work this out."

Desperate to hope this was true, Hercules dropped back down on the ground, "How?" he asked.

"Like I've got all the answers all of a sudden? You were the brains of this partnership, Hercules, remember?" Iolaus shot back, exasperated. How was he supposed to know what being an Olympian god was like?

Hercules snorted, "Yeah, right...don't pull the 'dumb blond' act on me, Iolaus. It won't wash."

Iolaus blew his breath out of puffed cheeks. "Right, well, okay. First off, let's agree on a few things. You are Hercules. You are the Hercules who has always been my best friend." He held his hand up when Hercules started to protest, "Just listen! So, you might have changed a little...not surprising, considering the circumstances. But, Herc, the very fact this bothers you so much means you still care, that it still matters to you. If you were all that indifferent...."

But, even as he said the words, Iolaus understood. It bothered Hercules, it mattered to him, because it was about him. He'd come back, not to ease Iolaus' grief, but because he needed to talk about being a god, and what it meant to him.

Hercules saw the troubled awareness in Iolaus' eyes and he squared his jaw. "Now, you're starting to get it," he said bitterly.

Iolaus narrowed his eyes. Shook his head. "No, no I don't buy it, Herc. Let's look at it another way. Why does it bother you so much that you don't have your mortal part left?"

Hercules stared at him, then looked away, considering the question. "Because it's not right to not care," he finally said, his voice angry.

"Sooo...you want to care, right? If you were like the others, it wouldn't matter to you. Like Ares, you'd shrug it off, or 'Dite, you'd just get distracted by another interest. But, you do care. If you didn't, you wouldn't."

Hercules frowned at this bit of circular logic, biting his lip. "But, it's hard, Iolaus." He looked up into the night sky. "A while ago, you made a crack about measuring eternity. And that's what it's about. When you live forever, it changes your perspective. Mortals get born, live, die. Struggle, but die anyway. I can't save them. I can't save you...."

"So, mortal life becomes irrelevant, something not to be cared about?" Iolaus asked, pushing.

"Maybe, I guess...I haven't been a god long enough to know for sure. But, I think that's what probably happens," Hercules replied softly.

"So, it won't matter to you on the day I finally die," Iolaus said, just as softly, as if it hurt, still pushing.

Herc's head flashed up and he looked into Iolaus' eyes. "Don't!" he protested, "don't ever think that!"

Iolaus smiled as he laid a hand on his friend's quivering shoulder. "You see, you do care about something more than yourself. And, I don't mean the fact that you'll hurt when I die...I mean that you care that I know that. Because you care about me, what I feel. You're not like them, Herc. You never will be."

Hercules laid a gentle hand over that of his partner's, careful not to squeeze too hard. "Not so long as I have you...but...."

"No 'buts', Herc. If you can care about one mortal, you can care about others. What about Iph and Jason?" Iolaus challenged.

"I...well, yeah, I guess...." Hercules said, his shoulders losing some of their tension.

"You see? It was just the shock. You never did like being a god, Herc. You'll just have to get used to it," Iolaus reassured his friend.

"But...I can't trust myself, Iolaus. I can't trust my strength, or what might happen if I got angry. I can shoot fireballs now!" Herc said, still horrified by his new being.

Iolaus just grinned, as irrepressible as ever. "Really? Cool! That'll be a big help the next time we come up against a monster!"

Hercules grinned and chuckled despite himself. But, then his face grew solemn again. "Iolaus, I don't want anyone else to know, yet...not even Iph or Jason. I need time, time to know if I can be trusted."

"Aw, Herc..." Iolaus protested.

"Please...I need time," Hercules insisted.

His buddy looked at him for a long moment. Time? How much time? If a week was a moment, then how long would a month or year be in forever time. Herc might disappear to stew over this and Iolaus would be dead of old age before it occurred to him to come back. He swallowed, understanding this would never be as easy as he had hoped.

Finally, he replied, "Okay, buddy. But, I've got a few conditions. I have to tell Iph and Jason you're not really dead...I'll explain, I promise," he added hastily, seeing the protest in Herc's eyes, "but, they deserve not to suffer needless grief, Herc. Also, if you want to somehow stay in touch, then, well, we need to figure out how to remind you that it's time to visit again. Otherwise, years could go by...."

Herc's eyes clouded with the awareness that Iolaus was right. He couldn't be trusted, not even to tell the passing of time. Looking away, he slumped, discouraged. "I can't let that happen," he whispered. "I can't lose the years of your life..."

"Hey, Herc, it'll be okay. If necessary, I'll just shout until you hear me. We'll work it out, buddy, you'll see," Iolaus promised, wishing he was sure of that. He didn't want Herc to miss the years of his life either... 'cause that would mean he'd never see his best friend again. And he couldn't stand that thought. Wouldn't even consider it, not now, not now that he had Herc back. God, demigod...who cared? He was Hercules.

Hercules sat a long time, thinking about how they could make sure he didn't let time slip away, knowing he had to leave, that he couldn't trust himself enough to stay. He was really afraid he'd hurt someone in anger, or worse, just because he didn't notice what he was doing. "I'll ask 'Dite for ideas, and Heph. They must have a way of keeping track of mortal time," he said quietly.

"Good, then that's settled. Just make sure you don't forget to visit," Iolaus said, trying to sound like it was okay that Herc didn't intend to stay. Trying to give his friend the space he had asked for, even though it was one of the hardest things he'd had to do. Gods, he'd miss having the big lug around every day...but, at least this time, he'd know he'd see him again...sometime.

Hercules had turned to look at him. "Forget? You? No, never. Iolaus, you still don't get it...I couldn't forget, even if I wanted to, which I don't. You were always the best part of me, the part that kept me human, that pulled me back when I lost it...you are my mortal half now. The only part of my humanity that I have left. I need you, Iolaus, more than I ever needed you before. Gods, just don't give up on me!"

Taken aback by the confession, Iolaus couldn't speak for a moment. But then the final plea sunk in. "Give up on you, Herc? Not so long as I live and breathe...and not even then. You get out of line and I swear, I'll come back from the Other Side and haunt you!"

He'd said it seriously, but then he convulsed in giggles at the thought. Gasping, he said, "Can't you just imagine Hades' reaction to that! Not to mention the rest of your relatives, who would only be too pleased to see the last of me? Do they have ghosts haunting them on Olympus?" He rolled over, picturing himself haunting Hera, and roared with laughter.

Unable to restrain himself, glad he was unable to resist, Hercules laughed with him.

Gods, he loved this guy. He always would.

Forever.

* * *

Much as Iolaus wanted to stay awake, the trial of the past week had left him utterly exhausted and his body fought to sleep. He shifted frequently, stretched, stood, sat back down, his body aching with its need. But, his heart was afraid if he slept, Hercules wouldn't be there when he woke up...and he'd find out this was really only a dream after all.

Herc watched him, gradually realizing the problem. Smiling slowly, he said, "You have to sleep, Iolaus. You're exhausted."

"Nah, I'm fine," Iolaus protested, stretching again, stifling a yawn.

"No, you're not fine. You've been through Tarturus, my friend. And you won't be any help to me, or yourself, if you collapse. Go to sleep. It's alright, I'll be here when you wake up," Hercules reassured him.

Iolaus looked away from him, down into the flames. "I'm afraid," he whispered.

"Don't be," Hercules replied, his voice warm and sure, just as Iolaus always remembered it being when he most needed support and reassurance. "I'll be here, I promise."

"Maybe I'll just lie down," Iolaus temporized, but his treacherous body carried him off to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the ground. Herc watched through the rest of the night, watched the face he loved so well, relaxed and innocent in sleep. He sighed, and blinked back tears. He didn't want to ever leave. Iolaus was the last, and the best loved, of all the mortals in his life. All he wanted was to return to the life they had been living, doing their best to make a difference. Backing one another up, no matter what.

But, he couldn't. Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever.

He hated this. What good was being a god if you couldn't be who and what you wanted to be. If you couldn't be with the only one who mattered any more.... He had to find his way, had to work out how to get back. Somehow. Someday.

* * *

Iolaus heard the early birds greeting the dawn. He lay a moment with his eyes closed, listening to the world wake, pushing the shadows of sleep from his mind. Then his eyes flashed open. Hercules! Terribly afraid it had all been only a dream, he rolled, his eyes raking the campsite.

True to his word, Herc was still there, sitting on the other side of the fire, his arms clasped over his upraised knees. He smiled, understanding the desperate hope in Iolaus' eyes, warmed by it. "I'm still here," he said quietly.

Iolaus sagged back against the earth, closing his eyes, "Thank you," he murmured, then rolled over and up with a smile that lit the day. It was then he noticed the rabbit roasting on a spit. He cocked an eyebrow at Hercules, thinking this must be a first. Herc actually preparing a rabbit for breakfast!

"You look like you haven't eaten for a week," Hercules explained, a look of concern shadowing his eyes.

"I haven't!" Iolaus confessed, suddenly famished. He reached out and took the meat from the fire, licking fingers singed in his eagerness. "You want some?" he asked.

"No, thanks...you go ahead," Herc responded.

"Right, I forgot, gods don't get hungry do they?" Iolaus replied, his eyes teasing as he took a bite.

Shaking his head, Hercules looked away, thinking it was only one of the many things that now made them different. "'S'okay, so long as you'll still cook!" Iolaus mumbled around a mouthful, trying to pull Herc back from his suddenly sad, introspective state.

Grinning, Herc turned back to him, "It's a deal," he affirmed.

Iolaus nodded and finished up the rabbit, rubbing his hands on his pants, as he stood to kick out the fire. "So, what do you want to do today, Herc?" he asked, reaching for normalcy, pretending to himself, if only for a moment, that their lives together could just go on.

"I'll walk with you as far as Corinth," Hercules told him. "I know you have to tell Iph what happened."

Iolaus nodded glumly, thinking he'd have preferred going after a monster. But, there was no point in putting it off. Herc wasn't dead, but the truth was, he wasn't alive anymore either. Iph, and Jason, needed to know that. Bending, he picked up his pack, and they set off along the road.

They'd walked for a few minutes in companionable silence when Hercules said quietly, "Thank you, for what you did...."

Iolaus stopped, his feet wide apart, his hands on his hips, head down. Biting his lip, he finally responded, his voice little more than a whisper, "I didn't want to...but there was nothing else I could do for you at that moment." He remembered the knife in his hand, the clouded eyes. His voice faraway, brittle, he continued, "You'd suffered enough, Herc...I couldn't let you suffer asphyxiation from the smoke, too...."

Hercules moved to stand beside his friend, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, "I know...and I was very grateful. I wish I could have told you...."

Iolaus shrugged off the hand and moved away. It was a moment he'd spend the rest of his life trying to block out of his memory, a moment which would haunt his nightmares until he died. He didn't want to talk about it.

Understanding, Hercules moved the conversation along. "When Zeus came, I argued until I was blue in the face, demanding he send me back. But, he just mumbled it had been a mortal matter, not an act of any god and he kept going on and on about his damned rules. I tried, Iolaus...I tried to get him to send me back. Until I finally gave up and, well, that's when I woke you up." Herc shook his head, still trying to grasp that those few moments had taken a week of Iolaus' life.

Iolaus had stopped walking, standing frozen on the road ahead. Then, he turned, his eyes haunted. "Then, you don't know...you don't know why...who...."

Realizing this was true, embarrassed to have not even thought about it in his preoccupation with having to accept being a god, Hercules shook his head. "No. Do you?"

Iolaus turned his head away, looking up at the sky. Gods, he didn't think he'd have to tell Hercules...and wasn't even sure he should. But, that was stupid, of course he had to tell him. Gods, it was the reason their lives had changed so completely. He sighed as he looked back at his best friend. "Promise me you won't ever tell Jason," he said.

"Jason? What does he have to do with this?" Hercules asked, mystified.

"You'll see. Promise me," Iolaus insisted.

Hercules nodded, his eyes scanning the countryside around them, "Okay, sure, I promise. What's this all about?"

Iolaus walked back along the road toward Hercules until he stood directly in front of him. "Herc, you remember years ago, when I went after Medea, to bring Jason's son back?"

Hercules smiled ruefully at the memory, "Of course, who could forget? You broke every rule in the book, lied to everyone, including me, to save that kid's life. I think you must be the only person alive who ever took on Medea and won."

"I didn't win," Iolaus said quietly with heavy sorrow, looking away. "She came back to take her revenge. She...did that to you to punish me."

Herc's face reflected his compassion for all he knew this meant to Iolaus. He laid a hand on his buddy's shoulder, but Iolaus again pulled away, brushing a hand across his eyes, averting his face. "I don't want Jason to know. That bitch has hurt him enough...but she won't hurt anyone else ever again. I killed her."

Iolaus moved to walk away, but Herc caught his arm, taking care to not bruise, pulling Iolaus back to face him. "This wasn't your fault, Iolaus. You couldn't know what she'd do...and you had to save the boy."

Iolaus nodded, refusing to meet Hercules' eyes, swallowed. "I know, Herc. But, it was because of what I did..." his voice cracked, and he blinked hard, biting his lip. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his heart breaking.

Herc gathered Iolaus into his arms, holding him tightly, as he said, "You have nothing to be sorry for, my friend. Nothing. You know that. And, she lost, after all. I'm not gone. I'm still here, with you. Part of me always will be."

'But not the way you were,' Iolaus thought, as he hugged Herc back, so grateful to be able to do so, yet so sad that what they'd had, the life they'd known, was over. Finally, he sniffed and pulled back. "Yeah, you're right," he sighed, "I just wish I'd killed her years ago."

Herc's lips thinned, and his eyes narrowed as he looked away across the horizon. He could wish Iolaus had done so, too, but 'might have been's' wouldn't do them any good now. Looping an arm around his friend, he drew him back along the road. "It's past, done. We just have to figure out how to go on from here."

Iolaus nodded. "Well, that means you have to get used to being around mortals again. Get comfortable with your new powers and perceptions. And you have to learn how to tell time!" he said, reaching for practicality and a touch of humour to lighten their mood.

Hercules chuckled giving Iolaus a light shove, and they split apart, walking along the dusty road toward Corinth.

They'd covered several miles, and at least three people had passed them going the other way, a tinker, a farmer with a heavily loaded wagon heading to a market, and a scruffy looking sort, whose eyes slid away when he passed. Somebody guilty about something or looking for trouble somewhere down the road.

Iolaus had noticed something odd. The men had nodded to him, giving cursory greetings as they passed, but they hadn't seemed to include Hercules. He was used to people recognizing his friend, or at least noticing his imposing build. It was almost as if....

"Herc," he asked with a sideways glance, "can anyone else see you? Besides me, I mean?"

"Uh, no," Hercules admitted sheepishly. "I don't want anyone else to know I'm around."

Iolaus rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. "Oh great! Just great! So, whenever I'm talking to you, folks'll think I'm crazy!" His point was immediately proven true, when another traveler came around the sharp bend in front of them, giving Iolaus a nervous look and giving him a wide berth, having heard one side of the conversation.

Herc chuckled as Iolaus tried to look innocent and harmless, "So? Folks have always thought you were crazy," he replied, crossing his arms.

Iolaus was watching the peasant carry on along the road, catching a nervous backward look and waving reassuringly. "That's not funny, Herc," he muttered under his breath, aggrieved. 'Gods!' he thought, in exasperation, then caught himself. Gods.

"Iolaus, give me a break! If people see me, they'll wonder why I'm not helping them...." Hercules began.

"Yeah, well, if they can see you, you might have to help them! Would that be so terrible?" Iolaus retorted, irritated.

Herc's arms dropped, fists clenched, his position tense, nostrils flaring, fury filling his eyes at being challenged. He disappeared.

Stricken, Iolaus shouted, "No, Herc, I didn't mean... Come back!" But, he remained alone on the road, and further along, the peasant started to run, putting as much distance as possible between them. "Damn it, Hercules! Get your ass back here!"

Still nothing.

Furious in his own right, Iolaus slammed his pack back over his shoulder, and stomped down the road. He had seen the anger in Herc's eyes, and he knew what it meant. Gods didn't like to be challenged, told what was right. Gods had their own rules. There'd been too much of Ares in those eyes, and Iolaus didn't like it. It never occurred to him that perhaps he should be afraid. Herc wouldn't ever hurt him, that wasn't the issue. No. But, his buddy had to learn that being a god didn't mean he was infallible. And he couldn't just disappear and sulk when he didn't get his own way.

Well, actually, it seemed he could, but that wasn't acceptable.

Waving his arms to punctuate his argument as he stomped along, he called to his friend, "New rule, Herc! You want me to keep you in line, let you know when you're too godlike to be borne, then you don't cut and run when you hear something you don't like! This is lesson one in temper control, my friend. You hear me?"

"I hear you," Hercules acknowledged, popping back into view.

"Yeah? Good," Iolaus responded as if Herc had been there all along, as for all he knew, Hercules had been. "Well, here's another new rule. When you're around, you show yourself to me. I don't ever want to think you're lurking somewhere not letting me see you. Got it?"

"Between you and Zeus, I'll have lots of rules to deal with," Hercules replied tightly. He didn't like being lectured to, but he listened, and he took it, knowing he was grappling with his own new nature.

"Well, you've got eternity to figure them all out," Iolaus snapped back. But, then, he slowed and stopped, stretching his neck to shake off the anger. Turning to Hercules, he said in a more reasonable tone, "I know this is hard...at least, I'm beginning to get an idea. But, Herc, it's hard for me, too. I've never had to watch what I say to you, and I don't plan to start now...not if we're ever going to be able to save something of what we had."

Hercules pushed his own irritation back and sighed. "I don't want you to change how you treat me, Iolaus. That's the whole point. If you start treating me like a god, then I really am lost."

Iolaus shook his head, "Trust me, Herc...I don't intend to ever lose you."

Hercules chanced a grin. "Then, I can assume you'll never treat me like a god?"

"Not likely, Herc...just don't try acting like one around me. You taught me too well. I'm not good at subservience and trembling obeisance," Iolaus grinned back.

Herc laughed outright at that. "I taught you?" he protested. "Iolaus, you haven't got a subservient bone in your body!"

"Just don't you ever forget it!" Iolaus chuckled back. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Herc, would it really be so bad if other people could see you, too? I mean, if you want to reclaim as much as you can of what you've always been, you're gonna have to find a way back sooner or later."

Hercules nodded as he turned to amble along the road with his friend. "I know. But, I really am afraid of just reacting without thought, of hurting someone until I get my bearings. Can't we just take it a step at a time?" he asked, a note of wistful pleading in his voice.

"Yeah, sure, buddy. A step at a time," Iolaus replied, wondering how many steps it would take.

* * *

Herc had left Iolaus at the city gates, with a promise that he'd seek out Aphrodite and Hephaestus, to learn how to be aware of the passing of time in the mortal world, and a promise that he'd be back. Just before he left, Iolaus rummaged in his pack and pulled out the gauntlets, cleaned of the soot, the metal shining under the sun. Herc had manifested in his usual leather clothing, but his arms had been bare.

"Here, I think these belong to you," Iolaus said, trying for a light tone, holding them out.

Hercules took them, holding them carefully. "Thanks, Iolaus," he said, then put one, followed by the other, onto his forearms, Iolaus helping him to buckle them in place, ignoring the mystified glances of those who passed him, heading in or out of the city. Herc laid a hand on his buddy's shoulder, and then he was gone.

When he disappeared, Iolaus had to swallow hard and blink back the stinging in his eyes. He had to get past the fear that everytime Herc disappeared that he'd never see him again. Herc had promised. He'd be back.

Iolaus just wished he knew if it would be the next day, next week or next year. Gods, this was going to be hard to get used to. Squaring his shoulders, he hitched his pack more comfortably on his shoulder, and headed into the city. Well, he'd get used to it. They'd work it out. They always had.

And, hard as it was going to be to give Iph the news, it was better than it might have been.

Iolaus waved at the guards as he passed unchallenged. He was well known as a close friend of the King, and well liked as well. They were a little surprised to see him alone, but shrugged, unconcerned. Hercules would be around somewhere, no doubt off on business of his own.

When Iolaus entered the palace, he went straight to the living quarters. At this time of day, late in the afternoon, he knew Iph would be finished with his official duties. One of the personal servants met him, to take his pack, and offer refreshment.

Iolaus bit his lip. He really wanted to see Iph alone. "The King, is he alone in the salon?" he asked.

The servant replied with a brief nod, "King Iphicles retired there not quite an hour ago."

Iolaus heaved a grateful sigh. "Okay, bring a large amphora of wine to Iph and me...and then, we're not to be disturbed until he calls, alright?"

The servant nodded again, and having learned to curb his curiosity long ago, turned to see about getting the wine and having Iolaus' pack taken to his room.

Iolaus took a breath, then headed for the comfortable living area. Iph looked up, surprised, to see Iolaus. He stood with a smile, his arm out to grasp Iolaus' in welcome. "Iolaus! I wasn't expecting you, come in!"

He led Iolaus to a comfortable chair, then sat down across from him, a low fire burning in the hearth between them. A maidservant entered a moment later, with the wine and two goblets. Leaving them on a table in front of the fire, she left as silently as she had entered.

Iph looked at the wine he hadn't requested, and then studied Iolaus' face, taking in the uncharacteristic silence, and the drawn features. "What's this about, Iolaus? What's going on?" he asked, his voice serious, concerned.

Iolaus stood to pour the wine and handed a goblet to Iphicles. Taking his own, he squatted down beside Iph's chair, looking up at him. Then, laying a gentle hand on Iph's arm, he said, "I've come with bad news, Iph. Not as bad as it might be, but...."

"What are you talking about?" Iphicles demanded, setting the goblet down, beginning to feel alarmed.

"It's about Hercules," Iolaus began.

Iph's eyes flashed from Iolaus to the door, as if he expected his brother to walk in, then back to Iolaus. "He's not with you," Iph said slowly, not wanting to hear this.

"No, I don't know when you'll see him again," Iolaus replied, biting his lip.

"Iolaus! Spit it out! What are you trying to tell me?" Iph demanded, irritated, beginning to feel fear.

Iolaus stood and sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm not doing this well. First, Herc's not gone, not for good, okay? I'll explain...but, just listen. And then we can talk about it."

Iphicles nodded, his eyes glued on Iolaus'. "Not gone?" he repeated dully, anticipating the news.

"No. Hercules is a god, now. He's on Olympus." Start with the good news first.

"A god? I don't understand? Did he choose...?" Iphicles persisted, wanting to know what had happened.

Iolaus shook his head, turning to drop into his own chair. "A week ago, Hercules was poisoned. He died."

When Iphicles gasped, Iolaus hurried on, "But, Zeus took him to Olympus, made him a god, so he's not really dead. He...he doesn't know how to handle it, yet. So, he wants some time before he sees anyone...." Iolaus' voice faded away, letting Iph take it in.

Iphicles sat back in his chair, hands gripping its arms, face pale and drawn. He looked away, letting the shock subside, sorting out the questions in his mind, trying to hold himself under control. Facts. Facts would help.

"Who did this?" he asked, his eyes flaming with a deep anger.

Iolaus shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I took care of it...." he began, but Iph interrupted.

"It doesn't matter? Gods, Iolaus, of course it matters! I'm his brother. I have a right to know!" Iphicles shouted.

"It was someone after revenge. Someone from our past, Herc's and mine. I'm sorry, Iph, I can't tell you more than that, I won't," Iolaus replied steadily, quietly. "There wasn't anything I could do to save him, and the person who hurt him is dead."

Iolaus looked away, not wanting Iph to see the pain in his eyes at the memory of that terrible night. "What matters, Iph, is that Herc isn't dead. Not really."

"But, he doesn't want to see anyone? How do you know that? Did Zeus...?" Iph asked, his voice confused, uncertain. Gods. Hercules. Gone?

When Iolaus didn't answer immediately, Iph turned his gaze on the warrior, feeling a surge of the old jealousy, surprised by it, but unable to deny it. "I see. He told you himself. Hercules. He's willing to see you," he said flatly, almost with a tone of accusation.

Iolaus' brows crept up under the curls on his forehead as he studied the floor, understanding Iphicles' resentment. He'd expected it. "I'm sorry, Iph...."

Iphicles rubbed a hand over his eyes, pushed it back through his hair, feeling...what? Grief? Loss?

"No, Iolaus, I'm sorry," he finally muttered, reaching for the wine goblet and taking a swallow. "Of course he'd show himself to you. You must have seen it all happen, when Zeus came for him."

Taking a swallow of his own wine, unwilling to burden Iph with the horror of those hours, of those endless days, he let Iph believe what he assumed to be the truth. He sat back, looking across at the older man. "I'm truly sorry, Iphicles. I know this is a shock. It's...hard, knowing he's not here anymore."

Iph gazed at him, then pressed his eyes closed, his hand coming up to cover them. Hercules had been killed. He might be a god, but... he wasn't 'here' anymore. His shoulders started to quake, and Iolaus was up and beside him, holding his shoulders, drawing the King's head to his chest, holding him while he cried.

Iolaus blinked hard, trying to hold his own emotions in check. Biting his lip, looking toward the ceiling as he rubbed the other man's back, he whispered, "He loves you, Iph, he always will. He's not gone. He just needs a little time, that's all. You'll see him again...I know you will."

"Gods, Iolaus..." Iphicles choked, "I never thought this would ever happen. I thought he was indestructible."

"Yeah," muttered Iolaus, in response, infinitely sad, "I know."

Everyone had believed Hercules would go on forever. He was a constant in their lives. A tower of strength, never doubted, always there. It seemed incredible that anything could ever take him from them.

"I wish I could have saved him," Iolaus murmured, as Iph began to regain some control. "But there was nothing anyone could have done. But, at least, we can know he still exists. That he's not gone for good."

Iphicles sniffed, pushing himself away, rubbing the tears from his face. "So...he's alright?" he asked, finally.

Iolaus blew out a breath of air. "Well, he's not entirely happy about being a god," he said with a faint grin. "You know how he always felt about that side of his family."

Ruefully, Iph was amazed to find himself chuckling in response, "Yeah, I can see how he'd find that irritating!"

Iolaus chuckled dryly with him, then returned to his own chair. "It'll be alright, Iph. Different, sure. But, it'll be all right."

Iphicles studied the younger man, noticing the gaunt features, the hollowed eyes. There was a lot Iolaus wasn't saying, wasn't telling him. "You're suffering, too, aren't you, Iolaus? Even having seen him?"

"It's going to take a bit of getting used to, Iph. Herc and I were partners for so long...." he responded quietly, unconsciously using the past tense.

Compassion flooded over the sadness in Iphicles' eyes. As hard as the news was to hear, it had to be hardest of all on Iolaus. No one had been closer to Hercules. No one would miss him more. What would Iolaus do without Hercules? Where would he go? "I'm sorry, Iolaus. Are you all right?"

"Me?" Iolaus replied, shrugging and taking a swig of wine. "Sure, I'll be fine. Like I said, it's just going to take a bit of getting used to...."

Iph shook his head, reluctant to push. Iolaus had always hidden the pain away. "Okay, if you say so. But, know this, Iolaus. You are my friend, my brother, too, and if you need it, you have a place here, always."

Iolaus flicked him a grateful smile, understanding all that Iphicles meant. That he had a home, there in the palace. That he wasn't alone. That, if he wanted to talk, Iph would listen. "Thanks. I appreciate that more than you know."

Nodding, Iph leaned back. "So, what do we do now? Do we have a funeral?"

Iolaus stiffened, "No...well, not unless you want to. I can't think of him as dead, Iph. I can't." He paused a moment, then continued. "I don't know what to say...he doesn't want people to know he's a god, not yet at least. And, he'd never want the trappings of a god...though, I expect there'll be temples all over Greece once it becomes known. There's no body...." Iolaus' voice drifted off.

He really didn't want to talk about, or think about, this.

Iph just nodded, understanding. "Well, we don't have to decide tonight. You look tired. And, you look like you haven't eaten for days. Let me call for some food, and then you can turn in, if you want."

Iolaus nodded his acquiessance, and Iph stood and left the room. Gods. A funeral. Temples. It all just made it more real. Herc wasn't dead, not exactly. But, everything had changed. He laid his head back against the chair and closed his eyes.

He could deal with this. He had to.

*He had no choice.

* * *

Iolaus left the palace the next day, after he was sure Iphicles was handling it as well as could be expected. He explained that he wanted to get to Jason, and let him know what had happened. Iphicles understood, and watched the warrior as he set out past the palace gates, wondering where Iolaus got his strength. Gods, he didn't know how he'd handle it in Iolaus' place. His grief had to be overwhelming. And yet, there he went, to carry the news to the other person in their lives who had considered Hercules his best friend, not to mention, son-in-law.

Looking up into the sky, picturing his brother in his mind, Iphicles whispered, "He needs you, you know. Take care of him."

Then, he turned and went back into the palace. They'd agreed not to say anything, not for a few weeks, to give Hercules at least that much time before people learned that he was gone. That he was a god.

He stopped, struck by a thought. What would Iolaus do the next time someone came looking for Hercules, asking for help? Because, there could be little doubt, that would happen sometime very soon. Gods, he'd help, of course.

For a moment, Iph almost sent guards after him, to back him up in case of trouble. But, then he stopped himself. Iolaus wouldn't thank him for the company, nor would he accept the help.

He tried to tell himself that Iolaus could handle himself, wouldn't bite off more than he could chew. But, he knew that wasn't the truth. Iolaus would never back away, never give up if someone needed him.

Iphicles felt cold as a new fear entered his heart.

* * *

Iolaus jogged out of the gates and onto the road heading toward the Academy, a couple of hours walk away. Glancing about, he called softly, "Herc? Herc, are you around?"

Disappointed when there was no answer, he looked up at the sky. "I sure hope you learn how to tell time soon. I was hoping you'd be waiting for me!"

Discouraged by the silence, he trudged along the road.

"You have to get used to this," he mumbled to himself. "He's not going to just hang around at your beck and call, no matter how much even he thinks he might want to. He has a new existence now, and who knows what stuff he'll get involved in up on Olympus. You can't go around feeling bad just 'cause he's not beside you, like he used to be. That's over. Get a grip."

He kicked at a small rock in the road, frustrated, sad, mad at himself for wanting more. "Be grateful that he's not dead. That you will see him again. You're not some crybaby who needs...." his words choked off in a sob. He moved over to a tree beside the road, and leaned against it, rubbing his eyes.

The emptiness of his life an ache that filled his chest, he slumped down onto the ground, his back against the trunk of the oak. "Okay, so you need him. Fine. He'll be around. He's not dead. That's all that matters. You don't own him. Grow up," he told himself, sniffing, disgusted by his lack of control, completely unconscious of the fact that he was hearing his father's voice in his mind.

Iolaus rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. Sitting here wasn't going to make anything better. He had to go on. One step at a time. He pushed himself to his feet and started back along the road.

But, gods, he wished Herc would show up.

* * *

Iolaus arrived at the Academy just after the lunch break, and all the cadets were either in class or working out in the exercise hall. He climbed the steps up into the main building and walked down the hall to Jason's office, dreading every moment of the conversation to come.

He wrapped lightly on the open door, drawing Jason's eyes from the scroll he was reading. "Iolaus! What are you doing here? Don't just stand there! Come in...take a load off your feet. Where's Hercules," Jason finished, glancing past Iolaus' shoulder, the question in his eyes.

Iolaus walked across the floor of the large office, looking around at it, remembering the days when Cheiron had been behind that desk. Gods, it was a long time ago...and yet, it felt like yesterday.

"Herc's not with me," he said, dropping into the chair in front of the desk.

Jason frowned at the tone, not knowing how to read it. "Where is he?"

Iolaus looked up into his old friend's eyes, wishing there was some good way to tell him. Some way that wouldn't hurt. Sighing, he knew there was no such way. He had to get this over with.

"Herc's on Olympus, Jason. He's become a god, for good this time."

"What?" Jason exclaimed, "You can't be serious! What happened?"

"Well, he didn't have a choice," Iolaus sighed, looking away for a moment, then back. "Jason, this is going to be hard to hear, and I'm sorry. But...Herc was killed. Zeus took him to Olympus, to at least save the part of him that is a god."

Jason sat back in his chair, stunned, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. "Killed?" he repeated in shock.

"Yeah," Iolaus said wearily, sitting back. "There wasn't anything either of us could do."

"Why? How?" Jason demanded, still feeling as if this couldn't be real.

"It was an old enemy, someone from our past. I killed...but, it was too late to do anything for Herc." Iolaus rubbed a hand over his face, then gazed at Jason, trying to come back to what really mattered, "I'm sorry, Jase, I know this is a shock. Believe me, I know. But, he's not dead...you'll see him again. I just don't know when."

Jason looked away, trying to take it in. Shaking his head, as if recovering from a physical blow that had dazed him, he looked back at Iolaus. "I can't believe this...."

Iolaus just shook his head, looking down at the floor. Jason stood and came around the desk, taking the chair beside Iolaus, reaching out to grip the other man's arm.

"Tell me what happened," he commanded, in the voice he'd used when he'd been a king.

Iolaus swallowed, and shook his head, avoiding Jason's eyes. "You don't want the details," he murmured in response, remembered tears in his eyes.

Jason's grip tightened. "Yes, Iolaus, I do. Why won't you tell me?"

Iolaus pulled his arm away, then stood to pace the room, his back to the former king. "It was just someone from our past, Jason, Herc's and mine. Someone who wanted revenge. He was...poisoned. It..." Iolaus swallowed convulsively. "Jase, I don't want to talk about it...." he stammered, his voice breaking, remembering the screams of pain. Remembering....

Jason rose to stand behind Iolaus, one hand gripping the smaller man's shoulder. "Iolaus," he said, his voice low, full of sorrow, for both of his friends, "you can't hold it all inside."

Iolaus raised his head to the ceiling, biting his lip, the horror of the memories making him tremble under Jason's hand. "Tell me, Iolaus...."

There wasn't anyone else in the world he could tell, and even Jason couldn't ever know all of it. He didn't want to burden Jason, but he needed... comfort. He'd been concentrating on being strong for Herc, for Iph, for Jason. Denying what it all meant to him, for him. But, he needed comfort, needed it badly.

The words tight in his throat, Iolaus whispered, "He was dying. It was hopeless, nothing we could do to stop it. And, he was in so much pain, Jase...it...he...I had to...." He brought his head down, choking back the sob, shaking with his grief and the memory of what he'd had to do. "He did the same thing once, for me, remember?" he whispered. "How could I do less for him?"

"Oh gods, Iolaus," Jason sighed, tears blurring his eyes, knowing Iolaus was talking about that time he'd been trapped, to be eternally tortured in Hera's temple, when Hercules had given him the only gift he'd had left to give. The gift of peace. He pulled the smaller man around, and hugged him tightly, held Iolaus while they both cried for the pity and pain of it all.

Long moments after, Iolaus pushed himself away, wiping his face, even as Jason brushed the tears from his own eyes and cheeks. Sniffing, Iolaus continued, "He told me Zeus took him from the pyre, the part that was god."

"He told you...you didn't see...?" Jason asked, studying Iolaus, imagining those moments, frowning in sorrow for what he and Hercules had both endured.

Iolaus took a shuddering sigh, moving back to the chair to sit down. "No." Rubbing his face with his hands, then pushing them back through his hair, he continued, "He came back, a few days later. He didn't know time had passed."

Iolaus looked up at Jason with a crooked grin, "It seems time passes differently up on Olympus, Jase...he thought it had only been moments. Anyway, he's some upset at being a god, even if it is better than the alternative. He's afraid he'll lose control, maybe hurt someone in anger."

Iolaus sniffed, then finished, "He, ah, wants time to get used to being a god. Until he trusts himself, he doesn't want to see anyone."

Jason rubbed his shoulder, then moved to sit again in the chair across from him. "Except you, eh?" he said, not resenting it. Glad in fact, that Hercules had not left Iolaus behind to suffer the soulwrenching sorrow of his loss.

"Yeah, except me," Iolaus agreed, trying to smile. "You see, that's why I shouldn't feel so bad. I know he's not dead. That he's okay. It's just that...."

"You don't know what to do without him?" Jason finished quietly, when Iolaus paused, unwilling to admit his feeling of being lost.

"Yeah, I guess," Iolaus admitted reluctantly, looking away.

Jason patted his knee, then stood to get the wine he kept in his desk. Bending to pull out the flask and two mugs, he poured and brought them back around the desk, handing one to Iolaus. "It'd be odd if you didn't miss him, Iolaus. Gods," he said, sinking back into his own chair, "I can't believe this. I can't believe..." He took a healthy swallow of wine. "I'll miss him...everyone will. Gods, the world will miss him. But, Iolaus, you were his partner, you spent almost everyday of the past thirty-five years with him...."

Iolaus nodded wearily. Gods, he was tired. He took another swallow of the wine, feeling its warmth. Needing it. "Yeah, and I'll spend more days with him. Years, if he figures out how to tell time," he wisecracked. 'Herc's not gone. Not really gone,' he reminded himself, holding onto the thought like a lifeline.

He leaned forward. "Sooner or later, we'll have to let people know what happened, you know, Xena, Gabrielle, Sal, Typhon and Echidna...and, if its not too much to ask, I'd appreciate your help in letting them all know...I just can't face going over it again and again. And, like I said, he doesn't want anyone to know, for a while at least. If he can get a handle on the god thing, he wants to be back, at least, he doesn't want to be away all the time. I've told Iph, and we've agreed not to say anything for a few weeks, until we have to because he's been gone too long."

Jason's eyes narrowed as he considered this. "Of course, I'll let the others know in due time, but, in the meantime, how will you explain where he's gone? You know people will ask. There's always some guy, from some village somewhere, looking for help...."

Iolaus shrugged. He hadn't figured that out yet. "I'll think of something. Gods, I'll just say he's away, occupied on other business. Who'll know the difference?"

"And, when that guy inevitably shows up asking for help, what will you do?" Jason asked, knowing the answer, wanting to argue with it.

Iolaus spread his hands. "I'll do what I can, Jason, you know that. What else am I supposed to do?"

What else, indeed. Iolaus would never refuse someone help. "Iolaus, you can't take on warlords and monsters all by yourself," Jason growled.

"Yeah? Well, I can't just turn my back, either. Don't worry, Jason, I'm not the young fool I used to be. I won't take on anything I can't handle...if I need help, I'll send for it," he assured his old friend.

Jason shook his head, but held his tongue. He believed Iolaus would send for help. He just didn't believe he'd wait for it. Iolaus read the look in Jason's eyes, and rolled his own. "Don't worry," he chided the master of the Academy, "I learned how to take care of myself a long time ago."

Jason had to agree with that, and nodded. "All right, Iolaus, I know you're a big boy now. Just, please, look before you leap?"

Iolaus grinned, "I promise."

"Sure you do," Jason said, taking another drink, "and, gods know, it's not like you're impulsive or headstrong or stubborn, or anything like that."

Iolaus chuckled. But, then his face lost its animation. "I miss him, Jason."

"I know," Jason responded quietly. They'd all been so close for so long. He was probably the only one who really knew how much Iolaus would miss the man who had been closer than a brother, the man he'd gladly have died for, given the chance, that Herc might still live.

Jason looked away, around the office. Gods knew, he'd miss Hercules, too. But, he had his own life. He had his work, here at the Academy, he had his children, and he had Lilith.

Hercules had been Iolaus' life.

Looking again at Iolaus, who was lost in his own thoughts, Jason found himself wondering what Iolaus would do now. When Hercules had thought Iolaus was dead, well, he had been dead at that, the demigod had been inconsolable for a long time, seeking only to lose himself somewhere far away. But, after they had defeated Dahok, he'd seemed more able to accept that Iolaus was at peace, in the Light. Still, he had been lost, a part of him gone, struggling to find meaning in a life that had turned to ashes. Privately, they'd all thought Iolaus would handle Herc's loss better, if such an unthinkable thing ever happened.

Well, it had happened. God or not, Hercules was no longer the companion with whom Iolaus shared his life. No longer the friend Iolaus could follow anywhere. Since the tragedy, Jason knew Iolaus had held himself together by focusing on the duties he must perform of seeing himself and Iphicles. But, what now?

"Iolaus," he ventured, "I know its too soon to make decisions, and maybe Hercules will find a way to return, to begin again your lives together...but, if he doesn't, I'd like you to consider staying here."

Iolaus had turned to look at Jason, a slight frown between his brows. "What would I do here?" he asked, puzzled.

"Be an instructor, of course," Jason asserted, as if it was obvious. "You're the best warrior, mortal warrior, I've ever known, the best archer and hunter. These kids could learn a lot from you."

Iolaus smiled, "Well, maybe in the exercise hall, but, in the classroom? Not likely!"

Shaking his head, Jason disagreed, "You could teach them a lot there, too, about tactics...about life. Iolaus, I know you're not the dunderhead you always pretended to be, even if you did excel as the class clown!"

Iolaus laughed, surprising himself. It was the first time he'd laughed, since...well, in a while. "Could you just see the look on Fiduceous' face if he ever saw me teaching a class!" Unable to help himself, he howled at the image.

Laughing with him, Jason replied, "I'd have to invite him back, just to see his reaction. He still lives not far from here. So, would you think about it?"

Iolaus shook his head, trying to imagine it. "All right, I'll think about it. Thanks Jason. It would be a good life. I just don't know what I want to do yet...like you said, it's too soon. I kinda hope, well that Herc'll find a way to, I don't know, make it sorta the same as it was...."

Jason nodded, not needing the explanation. "I know, my friend," he sighed, hoping for Iolaus' sake, as well as Hercules', that the god would find a way down from Olympus to take up life where he'd left off.

But, Jason frowned, thinking that he doubted it would be that easy.

Gods had their own rules.

* * *

Iolaus left the Academy the next morning. Jason had wanted him to stay longer, worried about him, wondering where he was going to go, what he was going to do. He'd reassured Jason that he just needed some time, to travel around, think things through.

But, the truth was, he knew Herc would never appear so long as he was around other people. If he wanted to see his best friend, he had to get away, outside, far from other eyes. More than anything, he wanted to see Hercules again, to be reassured that he was still around. To push away the loneliness that was trying to capture his soul.

So, he set off along the road, then cut across a field, heading into the forest. He hunted, fished, kicked around, ambling in no particular direction. Once, impatient, he'd called out, "So how hard is it to learn how to tell time! Geez, Herc! Where are you?"

But, the forest held only the sounds of whistling birds, chattering squirrels and the rustle of other creatures in the shadows. Iolaus' shoulders sagged. It had been, what, only three or four days. Less than a heartbeat on Olympus.

One morning, lingering by his campfire, he realized he couldn't just hang around like this. He was too restless by nature, too impatient. The hours dragged, the silence mocking his loneliness. Gods, was this all life was going to be? Hanging around like some hermit waiting for a ghost to show up?

He stopped himself at that thought. Herc was not a ghost. He was not dead! But, he wasn't 'here' either. Looking around the silent forest, Iolaus found himself wondering inanely, 'If a tree falls, and no one is there to hear it...does it make a sound? If a man lives, and no one knows it, does it matter?' If he stayed here, lost and alone, hiding from life, he might as well not live at all.

Herc wasn't dead, but Iolaus was burying himself alive, and he knew it.

Iolaus sighed and stood to kick out his campfire. Hitching his pack onto his shoulder, he set out, away from the forest, toward a village he knew wasn't far away. Maybe he could find some work, patching a roof, or in a forge. Pick up some pocket change, and buy himself a decent meal.

After that, well, he didn't know. He just knew it was time to start finding his own path, even if he had to walk it alone.

* * *

When he heard the shouts and screams from the road ahead, he shook his head. 'Everywhere we go! Trouble!' It was an instinctive reaction, without thought. As he'd done countless times in his life before, he was running to help...not even really aware that he was running alone this time.

He charged around the bend, and saw maybe fifteen or so bandits terrorizing a merchant, another already dead on the road beside the wagon, killed by a sword. They were playing with the rich young man, pushing him from one to the other, pulling off rings, and a necklace of silver, fingering his rich clothing, laughing in their cruelty.

Iolaus pulled his sword as he ran, tossing his pack aside, yelling just as he barged into them, his surprise complete. They scattered, lifting their own weapons, the young merchant scrambling for safety under the wagon.

Iolaus had jumped on the back of one outlaw as he'd raced in, knocking the man out, and leaping away, he engaged two others in swordplay, their weapons slashing and clanging as he dodged and spun, making short work of them. Yelling at the merchant to get away, he turned to see three others coming toward him. Dropping and rolling, he knocked them off their feet, spinning up and around to clobber two with the hilt of his sword, then kicked the third, sending them unconscious to the dust.

The young stranger, not needing to be told twice, had scrambled out from the far side of the wagon to run into the forest, desperate to get away with his life, too panicked to even think about the fate of the man who had just saved him.

Iolaus was too occupied to notice or care. There were still too many left standing and he had his work cut out for him. His back to the wagon, but not so close as to inhibit his movements, just to keep his back safe, he fought courageously, taking out two more. Just when they thought they had him cornered, he dropped and rolled again, under the wagon. When they began to charge around it, he rolled back out again, taking out another who had spun back to meet him, while the others, surged back around him, coming from both sides.

Two grabbed his arms, holding him, while a third began to pound on him. They were furious. Who was this pipsqueak to get in their way...to have killed so many alone? They'd teach him! Iolaus took advantage of their fury, kicking out at the man in front, swinging his legs up, back and over, breaking the grip of the two holding him.

But, there were too many, and he knew it. In a spare corner of his mind, he sent a silent apology to Jason. Hadn't he promised not to take on odds he couldn't handle, to send for help, to not be impulsive or thoughtless?

'So much for good intentions,' he thought, fighting desperately, determined to make their victory a costly one. Spinning, kicking, yelling, slashing and stabbing with his sword, he was a whirlwind of fire and justice. Three more fell, but still they kept coming. 'Gods,' he thought, weighing the odds still stacked against him, 'I'm getting 'way too old for this!'

He was only one man. He wouldn't get away with it. He couldn't win.

They were going to kill him.

'Well,' he thought, with a wild grin as he spun and kicked the sword out of one opponent's hand, ready for whatever the Fates threw at him, 'at least wondering what to do with my life won't be a worry anymore!'

Blindsided, he took one deep slash in his left arm while he dodged a knife he'd barely seen flying toward him, when the knife stopped in the air and whirled back on the man who'd thrown it, killing him. Startled, then grinning, Iolaus spun away from another attacker, kicking back at the man, knocking him flying, while four others seemed to be picked up by the wind, one after another, then two at once, and flown in quick succession fast and high, into the trees where they crashed resoundingly, before falling to the earth.

The last two, terrified by the mysterious and violent fate of their comrades, cut and ran. Iolaus sagged down on one knee, sweating and dirt covered, his right hand pressed to the wound in his left arm. "What took you so long, buddy? And, you forgot the rule, Herc," he giggled, "You're supposed to let me see you when you're around!"

Gods, he was glad Herc had shown up!

A furious god materialized thirty feet away and bore down on him, eyes flashing, voice raised in frightened anger. "What in Tarturus did you think you were doing?" Hercules raged, storming over to loom over Iolaus. "They would have killed you!"

Used to his friend's concern, Iolaus didn't take the anger seriously, shrugging as he examined the injury, "Yeah, well, calm down. They didn't, thanks to you."

He was unprepared for the grip of steel on his shoulders, lifting him, shaking him until his teeth rattled. "You can't keep doing this!" Herc shouted into his face.

Reflexively, Iolaus struck out with his right fist, beating at Herc's arm, yelling, "Put me down, you big ox! You're hurting me!"

Hercules dropped him in a heap, staring down at him, fighting for control. Iolaus scrambled back onto his feet, equally furious now, "What's with you? Get a grip, Hercules. I'm fine."

Looking at the blood spilling from the wounded arm, Herc growled, "You're not fine." He turned to rifle in the wagon and pulled out a bolt of linen which he tore into a long strip. "You're stupid!"

"Stupid! Well, I like that. They would have killed that guy!"

Hercules cast a cold glance at the merchant's body. "Looks like they already did," he muttered, coming back to Iolaus and grabbing his arm roughly.

"Oww! Not him, the other guy," Iolaus looked around, "I told him to run. Looks like he did. Watch the arm, Herc...don't be so rough!"

"Ran and left you to die," Hercules snarled as he tightly wrapped the linen around the wound, to stop the bleeding and protect it. Standing back, he glared at Iolaus, hands on his hips, eyes still filled with fury and fear.

"Yeah, well, you saved me. If you'd been here in the first place, it wouldn't have been a problem," Iolaus accused.

"Iolaus, you can't just rush in against the odds, hoping I'll turn up." Hercules still wanted to shake sense into his friend's hard head.

"Then, don't disappear on me again! What's so great about Olympus anyway? You never liked it! Why don't you just stay here?" Iolaus demanded, still sounding angry, but his words were motivated by the sense of abandonment which had been growing for days.

Hercules ground his teeth, looking away. "I can't," he said shortly.

"Can't or won't? Herc, you're a god. You can do whatever you want," Iolaus challenged back.

Shaking his head, Hercules looked back at him. "No, I can't. I am a god, Iolaus, and there are rules...."

"Rules!" snorted Iolaus, knowing what Herc had always thought about their rules.

"Yes, rules. Gods aren't supposed to interfere in what doesn't concern them...in the lives of mortals...." Hercules replied.

"Is that right? Seems I've heard that one before. Tell it to someone who might believe it. Gods are always interfering! 'Dite's always meddling in someone's love life, and Ares spends every waking moment goading mortals into war. Give me a break! And, if you're going to be so rule-abiding, then what are you doing here, interfering in my life?" Iolaus spat back. Gods. Rules. This was unbelievable.

"I have a right," Hercules replied, his voice tight, "*You are what 'concerns' me!"

"Really? So, now I'm your pet mortal...well, thanks a whole heap, Hercules," Iolaus snarled, turning away, holding his arm.

Hercules reached out and pulled him back to face him, not thinking of his strength. "You know better than that! Grow up," he lectured, his tone abrupt and impatient.

The words, the bruising grip, the lecturing tone crashed into Iolaus' heart. His face white, he stared at the hand crushing his arm. "Grow up?" he whispered, overcome with anger and hurt. His jaw was tight, as blue eyes haunted with fury and pain flashed back up to Hercules. Seething, he said very clearly, very deliberately, "Let go of my arm, and don't ever talk to me like that again. You're not my father, and I'm not your accolyte."

Stunned by the look in Iolaus' eyes, and the hostility in his voice, Hercules released his grip and stood back a pace. As soon as he had done so, Iolaus whirled away from him, going to retrieve his sword to put it back in its sheath on his belt. Then he walked over to where he'd flung his pack, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder, not saying a word, ignoring the god who stood staring at him helplessly.

Hercules was feeling a growing desperation. He'd not meant to hurt Iolaus, had been terrified for him, horrified by the chances he had taken. He hadn't explained it right, too angry to be clear. He had to make Iolaus understand, not let him walk away from him in cold rejection.

"Iolaus, please," he started again, raising his hands in a supplicating gesture, "I'm sorry...I was out of line. I was scared, terrified when I came back and saw them about to kill you." He shook his head, looking around at the forest on either side of the road. "I can't lose you...not like this."

Iolaus paused, his back to Hercules, "It really is all about you, isn't it, Hercules?" His voice was bitter, resigned.

The god shook his head, swallowed, seeking the words to make his buddy understand. "No...no, it's not," he said quietly, moving to stand behind his friend. "This isn't how your life should end, Iolaus. Not on some empty, lonely road at the hand of thugs like them. I don't want you to die, I never wanted that. You know that."

Iolaus sighed, letting the anger go. "Then, what do you want, Hercules? For yourself? For me?" he asked, turning to look up into troubled blue eyes.

Herc spread his arms wide. "I want you to have a life, a good life. Iolaus, this," he said looking around at the scattered bodies, "this can't go on. You can't do this alone. This is your chance, buddy, to have something else. Something more."

Iolaus, too, looked around, closing his eyes for a moment, before turning to Hercules. "But, I liked what we did, Herc. I liked helping people, saving them from goons like this. I don't know if I can stop. I don't know if I want to," he tried to explain, without saying how completely lost he felt.

"I know," Hercules replied, looking away. "But, it's not the same now. You don't have anyone to watch your back."

"But, you could, couldn't you?" Iolaus hated the pleading note in his voice. He didn't want to beg Herc to come back to him, but he wanted that more than anything. "If Aphrodite is the Goddess of Love, and Ares is the God of War, couldn't you be the God of Protection or something like that, to be here, to help people who can't help themselves?"

Herc brought his eyes back to his friend's. Appearing to think about it, he shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. And you can't just go on like this until we do know, until I work all this out." He laid a gentler arm around his buddy's shoulders and guided him to the side of the road, making him sit down on a large rock.

Sitting beside him, Hercules continued, "Iolaus, you know that sometimes you've regretted not having a family. You always gave everything up for me, for what we did together. And you've helped a lot of people. But, this is your chance to have a different life, with a woman you love, to have children. Iolaus, it's not too late for that."

Mortal eyes searched those of the god, and warning bells went off when Herc's eyes shifted away. Herc never had time for the rules, still didn't, apparently, if they applied to Iolaus. The dismissal of the possible role Herc could play had been too fast, the redirection to the life Iolaus could now live too quick, too soon...too singleminded? Something else was going on here.

His eyes narrowed, Iolaus accused, "You made a deal."

Herc froze, then shook his head, not looking back at him. 'Damn it,' he thought, 'Iolaus is too damned quick.'

"With Zeus? A bargain of some sort? You'll behave if I get to have a good life? Is that it? Damn it, Herc!" Iolaus muttered looking away. "How could you do that? Don't I get a choice? What about what I want?"

Herc looked at the ground. "I can't give you what you want. I can't make it like it was, much as I wish I could. I even tried to get Zeus to turn back time ag..., well, he wouldn't even discuss it. We're stuck with this, Iolaus." He turned to gaze at his lifelong friend, a look of appeal in his eyes. "I'm just trying to make the best of it. And, it could be good, Iolaus. You have such a great capacity to love, and you were a great father...."

"Sounds like you have it all worked out," Iolaus said, unconvinced, still not happy about it. "Got the woman picked out, too?"

Hercules grinned and clapped him on the shoulder, "Now that's one area where you've never needed my help. Besides, I think we both know at least one who's out there, who's as constant as," he looked around for a suitable comparison, "as the sky."

Iolaus looked sharply away. "But, all the people who need you...how could you make a deal that means you can't, won't, help when you're needed?"

Hercules laid a hand on Iolaus' shoulder, rubbed his back then let his arm fall away. "All life's about choices, Iolaus. I can't make it the way it was. And, what if we did just try to pick up where we left off...for how long? Neither one of us would admit it, but...well, you're not getting any younger. At some point, it would have been one warlord too many. People will manage for a while without me," he finished off lamely. He'd known Iolaus wouldn't like this, if he ever figured it out.

Iolaus had stiffened at the reference to his age, the implication that he was slowing down, would have inevitably had to back out or die. "My life isn't worth it, Herc...there're too many bad guys out there, too many monsters...."

"It is to me," Hercules replied quietly. Then, with a tentative grin, he continued, "And Zeus never said we couldn't go after the odd monster...."

Iolaus turned at that, saw the grin, and couldn't resist one in return. "No? Well, then, it's not a total washout."

They sat in silence for a moment, Iolaus trying to accept that Hercules had made yet another deal for his life. "So, what exactly is the deal you made with Zeus, Herc? That I'll live a long and happy life providing you don't mess around in the lives of mortals?"

"Basically. I can't guarantee a happy life, Iolaus, but if you can resist getting into trouble, you could have a long one. 'Happy' is up to you. And, I got an agreement that the other gods would stay out of your life, leave you alone."

"The other gods?" Iolaus replied with a smirk.

Herc gave a half embarrassed shrug. "Well, yeah...I wasn't about to give up my chance to, well, help you out with the odd monster...or bandit," he finished with a rueful look at the bodies around them. Worried, he turned back to Iolaus, "But, don't go counting on me to always be around. Gods, Iolaus, I could get distracted for a moment and it would be three days later, way too late to back you up. You didn't even call me this time, dammit! If I hadn't've already been on my way...." He stopped, not wanting to even think about how close it had been.

Iolaus turned to fiddle with the bandage. Hercules, frowning in concern, asked, "Is your arm all right?"

"Yeah," Iolaus sighed, letting his hand drop away, "it's fine." He was struggling to take it all in, but the bottomline was that there was no hope of recovering what they'd had. Hercules had thrown away what might have been possible with a deal for him. He didn't like it, and he felt guilty. He also felt immeasurably, unbearably sad.

It was really over. Everything. The way they had lived. It was over, finished.

"So, I'm just supposed to get on with my life? Be happy? Live long and prosper?" he said bleakly.

"Do you think you could try to sound a little happier about it?" Hercules teased.

"No!" Iolaus replied sharply. "No. I'm not happy about it. I'd give anything to...." his voice cracked. "Gods, Herc, it hurts...and I feel guilty even imagining being happy without...."

Hercules reached out, putting an arm around Iolaus' shoulders, hugging him. "I know, buddy. But, no one I have ever known deserves happiness more than you do. And, it's not like I won't be around. It'll be all right. Please, I want you to be happy. And, I want you to live a long time. Forever."

Iolaus rubbed a hand over his face, sniffed, blinked away the moisture in his eyes. "The only forever I'd ever want is what we had, Herc."

"I know," Hercules replied softly. Then he pulled away, slapping Iolaus' back, saying, "You have a life to live, Iolaus, and it's time you got started with it."

Iolaus gazed at his oldest and best friend for a long time, struggling with the finality of this moment, this decision to begin a new life. He'd never wanted the old life to end. But, Herc was right. He couldn't do it alone, couldn't go on with a life that no longer made sense. He was getting too old...and, he was only one man, a mortal. He couldn't face all the challenges alone, to try would only be a kind of suicide. Look at what had almost happened here, just moments ago. Iolaus looked up at the sky, thinking of the one person with whom he could imagine sharing a life now that Herc could no longer be with him, then let his eyes fall to the ground, aware that Hercules was watching him...was worried about him. And, was waiting for his decision to go on, to find a new path.

Finally, Iolaus nodded. Standing, he picked up his pack. Without turning to Herc, he asked softly, "Will you come with me?"

"Beside you all the way, buddy," Hercules assured him, just as quietly.

Iolaus looked up at his best friend and smiled tentatively. "If things work out...I might need a best man...."

Hercules laughed. "Like I said, buddy, beside you all the way. I wouldn't miss that for the world! C'mon, let's get away from here. There's someplace you have to be."

Iolaus nodded, and they turned to head through the forest, heading west.


	2. Chapter 2

True to his word, Herc was still with him, when three days later, they approached the village. Pausing just out of sight, Herc turned to Iolaus. "Well, this is as far as I go, buddy. What happens here is up to you."

Iolaus looked up at him, not liking the tone in Herc's voice. It sounded too...final. "But, you'll still be around, drop by...say hello, help me with monsters...."

Herc nodded, "Sure, from time to time. But...I think you need some time here, on your own, to, well, to get used to..." 'living without me,' he'd almost said, but just looked away. "I won't be far, Iolaus. You'll get so sick of having me around, you'll be telling me to get lost."

"Like that would ever happen," Iolaus muttered, but squared his shoulders. Herc was right. He had to learn to live his own life, find his own way. It was time. Scratching his throat, trying for a light note, he said, "So, I'll see you around?"

"Yeah...I'll see you around. Now, go on...." Hercules gave him a playful shove, then stood to watch Iolaus walk into the village. Iolaus was surprised when he glanced back and saw that he was still there. Hercules usually just disappeared. But, Herc was there, watching and he waved in encouragement, a half smile on his face. Iolaus waved back, then disappeared around the village lane.

Herc watched until his friend was out of sight, thinking about the fight he'd had with Zeus. His father hadn't been pleased that Herc wouldn't just accept his new status as a god, and the rules that went with it. But, Iolaus had been right. Herc had never thought much of the rules that governed the gods. For him, they were bargaining chips, points of negotiation for the future he wanted to have happen.

And, he gotten the best deal he could. He just hoped that Iolaus would be happy with it. All of it.

* * *

As Iolaus passed through the village, nodding at folks he'd come to know over the years, he knew she'd be surprised to see him. It had only been two months since he'd last passed this way, and it was rare for them to be able to spend time together more than a couple of times a year, even when he made the effort, wanting to see her after what they'd found in each other five years before. He loved her, and knew she loved him.

He felt anticipation, and guilt, hope and regret, desire and sorrow. Gods. Was it possible to experience a greater jumble of emotion? By the time he'd passed through the village square, skirting the well, and heading down the last short lane, he was trembling.

Heading toward the Temple steps, he happened to glance to the side, toward the garden, and he saw her there, gathering flowers for the altar. He stopped, uncertain, almost afraid. What if she didn't want this? What if she'd just always assumed he'd only pass by, always on the way to somewhere else? Well, then he'd go. But, right now, he needed to see her, hold her.

He walked quietly up behind her, biting his lip. Gods, she was beautiful. In every way. She moved with a gentle grace, her wild mane of hair gleamed in the sun, and he smelled honeysuckle. Elliara. High Priestess to the Goddess Aphrodite. Priestess of Love.

His throat tight, he whispered, "Elliara?"

She froze at the sound of his voice, then dropped the flowers in her arms, whirling, arms wide, face bright with a smile of joy. "Iolaus!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms. "Oh, bless the Lady, I never expected to see you again so soon!"

He held her tight against him, needing her love. Needing to feel her warm and safe in his arms. But, he couldn't find words. There was too much to say, so much it tied his tongue.

She heard the silence, and felt the tremble in his body. Frowning, she pulled back a little, her hands running down his arms, finding the bandage. "You're hurt!" she exclaimed, thinking this was the problem.

"No," he assured her, his voice low as he drank in the sight of her, "it's not much more than a scratch. Don't worry about it."

She caught the tone of his voice, the uncertainty, almost a sound of hope mixed with something else...pain? She looked up into his face, searching his eyes, her hand brushing back his hair, and cupping his cheek. "What is it, Iolaus?" she asked, troubled. There was pain in the depths of those beloved blue eyes.

Looking closer, she noted his gaunt look, and she pulled back further to examine his body. He'd lost weight. There were the signs of battle, the wound, and the bruises. But, there was something else, something that had wounded his heart. "What's wrong?" she asked softly, again hugging him tightly.

For a long moment, he didn't answer, as the words she'd said to him so many years ago echoed in his mind:

"Look at the sky, Iolaus. She is always there, not knowing if the sun will return again. She holds the wind,

and shelters the stars, gives space for the moon to roam and for the clouds to drift where they will. She

knows all of this is of great worth. Still, she is never as bright and clear, as when the sun is there with her,

and when he is present, the moon and the stars dim. But, even when the sun comes, she knows he is just

passing by, that he cannot stay. For all of that, she would not seek to hold the sun in place, because she

knows he must follow his path, bringing light to the dark corners of the world, that he is needed elsewhere

and must make his own journey through time. Still, even not knowing if the sun will ever return, she is there,

always, ready to welcome him, and rejoice in his light as he passes by....she has no choice, you see. The sky

loves the sun, and is content to know that when he does come, if he comes, the dawn will be brilliant, and the

day full of warmth. In the meantime, she has the stars, and the moon, and the wind and the clouds to give

her time meaning. The sun can journey where he will and be confident that the sky will always be there for

him, will always love him, will always welcome him, should his path allow him to pass by once again."

"If...if the sun wanted to stop, be held in place by the sky, would the sky want him?" he whispered into her hair.

Her arms gripped him tightly, her fingers clutching at his vest. She'd never dared hope...knew it was impossible. Hercules... Her eyes lifted past his shoulder, seeing the empty lane behind them, knowing then, that he was gone. Oh gods, no. Not Hercules.

Turning her face into his neck, she whispered back, "I love you. I always have and I always will, Iolaus. To have you here, with me, for the rest of our lives, would be more happiness than I ever dared even dream of. But, my darling," she continued, her voice full of tears, "I never wanted it to be at such terrible cost to you."

His own eyes blurred then, grateful for her quick understanding, amazed she could know him so well, yet still love him so much. Others would resent having him show up, as if he just didn't have any where else to go, nothing better to do. But, she understood. She always had, without jealousy or rancor. Elliara only knew how to love completely, without expectation.

He bent his head to push her hair away and kiss her forehead. He held her tightly a moment longer, then pulled back, still keeping his arms around her. "Herc isn't dead," he said, sniffing, his eyes skittering around before coming back to hers. "But, yes, he's gone."

"I'm sorry," she said, the depth of her empathy for him clear in her eyes. "What happened?" she asked, again stroking his cheek.

He caught her hand, and held it, while he turned away, leading her to the bench under the oak. Once they were seated, he put an arm around her, drawing her close. "The good news is, he isn't dead, Elliara. He's a god."

She looked up in surprise, her sea blue eyes searching his, not understanding. "How? Why?" She knew both 'brothers of the soul' well enough to know what they thought of the gods.

Iolaus sighed, looking away. "It was an old enemy, out for revenge on me. She was the incarnate of evil, Elliara. I don't know how she did it, if she cast a terrible spell to enchant the cloak Herc was wearing or...it doesn't matter. Whatever she'd done, the cloak melded to his skin and couldn't be removed. And then, its acid burned him. There wasn't anything either of us could do...I couldn't save him from death."

He paused. She didn't need to know the horrific details of all that had happened. It would only hurt her. "Zeus came and took that part of him that's a god, and took him to Olympus. I...I've seen him. He promises to visit...but, what we were...how we lived...it's over."

She gripped his hand, whispering, "I'm so sorry, Iolaus. You must miss him deeply."

Iolaus swallowed and nodded. Then, he turned to her. "I know I have no right to ask, Elliara. I know you should have come first...but, you always seemed to understand," his voice caught.

She reached around his body, to hug him and hold him close, wanting only to comfort him. "You love him," she whispered, "and I know you also love me. He needed you more."

Holding her, biting his lip, trying to hold back his tears, keep the sob locked in his throat. "And, now, I need you," he whispered. "Will you have me?"

"Always," she murmured back, turning her face to his, to kiss him gently, and then with all the love in her soul.

Tears streamed down his face as he held her close. "I love you," he murmured.

"I know," she said softly. "I've always known." Reaching up to stroke his wild curls, she continued, "You're home, now...you don't need to wander across the sky any longer, my bright sun. You're home."

* * *

Iolaus found a cottage not far from the Temple to Aphrodite, with a shed in the back he could convert to a forge. It needed work, the roof needed new thatch, and there were walls that needed patching. But, the structure was sound, and the stone-paved floor intact. There were two rooms, both with hearths. It wasn't fancy, but it would be warm, and it would be filled with their love.

He was up on the roof, sneezing as he tied the pieces of new thatch into the roof, so startled by the warm, amused voice below that he almost fell off.

"Need some help?" Herc enquired with a grin and laughing eyes, then moved quickly in case he had to catch his friend. "Easy! Sorry, didn't mean to startle you!' he apologized.

Iolaus waved a negligent hand, "Don't worry about it," he called as, ignoring the ladder, he jumped to the ground in front of his friend. "It's good to see you!"

"You too," Herc grinned, his eyes going to the cottage, taking it in. "Nice place."

Iolaus laughed, "Not yet, but it will be. It just needs a little work."

"So, like I asked," Herc turned back with a smile, "Need any help?"

Looking a little uncomfortable, Iolaus replied, "Uh, thanks Herc, but I don't want any fancy abbacaddabra stuff," he said, waving his hands, and snapping his fingers. "I want to do it the old fashioned way, you know, with my own hands."

Grinning, Hercules shook his head, then cocked an eyebrow, "I still know how to handle a hammer, you know. C'mon. Show me what you want done."

"Not afraid someone will see a disembodied hammer floating around?" Iolaus teased, well aware that Herc was probably invisible to everyone but him.

"I'll risk it," Herc replied in a droll tone, moving inside to examine the areas needing work. Iolaus chuckled and followed him in, showing him the areas needing to be patched, explaining what he'd planned to do. Herc nodded, then went to get the supplies. With him inside, and Iolaus up on the roof, they could talk between the gaps in the roof.

"So," the god ventured, his tone deceptively light and innocent, "Elliara was glad to see you, was she?"

Iolaus paused and grinned. "Yeah, she was. And quit pretending you don't know it. You were probably eavesdropping."

"Nope," Herc said, pounding a nail. "I'm hurt you'd even suggest it. I respect your privacy, Iolaus." But he was grinning.

He hadn't been listening in, but he had a sister who wasn't above such antics. 'Dite had been almost giddy with delight when she'd told him what'd she'd heard. "They're getting married!" she'd squealed, and would have given him all the details of what she'd observed, but Hercules had just blushed and held up his hands. There were some things he didn't need to know. She'd laughed at him, told him he was 'soooo cute!' and had taken off to tell Heph.

"I appreciate that, Hercules," Iolaus responded with mock solemnity, catching the knowing grin. "So, 'Dite told you, huh?"

Herc laughed as he looked up into the dancing eyes of his best friend. "You know my family 'way too well!" he confessed. "But, I told her you don't like to be watched over, and to give the two of you a break," he continued, a rueful look on his face, embarrassed.

Iolaus just giggled. "Like that would ever stop her. It's alright. I don't mind so long as she keeps looking after Elliara."

"That you can count on. The love of your life is 'Dite's favourite. And Heph is pleased, too, to know that you're going to make the shed into a forge."

Iolaus gave him a bemused look as he wrestled with another piece of thatch, before he sneezed again. "Gods, Herc, I never thought they'd be so interested! I feel like I've got a whole pack of relatives tracking my every move!" He shook his head, and giggled.

"Well, I've always thought of you as a brother, she's my sister, so she's sorta your sister, too, and Heph is her husband, so I guess, yeah, they're all relatives," he said around the nail in his mouth, while he pounded another. Looking up, he asked, "You don't mind do you?'

"No," Iolaus smiled, warmed by the words, "I don't mind. You're the only brother I've ever had!"

"Then, you won't mind if they come to the wedding?" Herc asked, casting a hasty look up and then back down when he hit his hand with the hammer. "Owww!" he complained. Damn. That had hurt!

Iolaus had had to grab a rafter to keep from falling off the roof, first in astonishment at what Herc had said, and then laughing hysterically when Herc looked at the offending hammer as if he'd like to turn it to stone, but figured it wasn't worth the effort.

"It's not funny!" he called up, aggrieved, sucking the throbbing tip of his thumb.

Iolaus took one look at the god Hercules, with his thumb in his mouth, and roared with laughter. Losing his grip, he slid off the roof, landing in a heap, still laughing.

Herc strolled outside to make sure he was alright, and stood staring down at him. "Serves you right for laughing at me when I'm injured helping to fix up your new house," he said with mock severity.

Iolaus sprawled at his feet, gasping for breath, still giggling. "Want me to kiss it better?" he asked in the 'coo coo' tone he reserved for babies.

"No, thank you all the same," Herc grinned, then reached down to help him up. Iolaus dusted off his pants, then remembered Herc's comment about the wedding. Looking up, he asked, amazed, "They really want to come...to the wedding, I mean?"

"Sure, of course, why wouldn't they?" Herc affirmed, heading back inside to pick up another nail and retrieve the hammer.

Iolaus followed him back in. "Well, I don't know...I guess I just never thought about it. I mean, Herc, they're gods...."

Hercules turned to cock an eyebrow at him, "Your point being?"

Waving a hand, Iolaus stammered, "I just never thought any gods would care."

Herc lowered the hammer, turning to him, "Iolaus, your best man is a god."

"Well, yeah, I know, but that's different," Iolaus exclaimed. Herc just shook his head and went back to hammering another nail.

Iolaus watched him for a moment, "Herc," he said tentatively, "You don't have to...you know, be the best man. I know you don't want anyone to see you."

The hammer stopped in mid-descent as Herc turned his head away sharply. Then, lowering his arm, he turned back to Iolaus. "Don't you want me to be your best man?"

Iolaus' face dropped. "Gods, Herc...that's not what I meant! Who else would I want? You're my best friend. No...it's just that I know you'd be uncomfortable...."

Reassured, smiling, Hercules laid a hand on his buddy's shoulder. "Iolaus," he said quietly, "I gave up being a god once, to be with you. I guess I can finally admit to being one, if that's what I have to do to stand beside you on your wedding day."

Iolaus' eyes misted, remembering that long ago day. Looking down, he bit his lip, overcome by what Herc was again doing for him. Hercules frowned, wondering if he'd said something wrong. "Iolaus, are you alright? Is something the matter?"

Iolaus wiped a hand across his face, and looked up, his eyes still glistening. Sniffing, he shook his head. "I couldn't believe you did that for me, Herc...I...you don't know...and now, this. I know how much you don't want anyone to know yet...."

Hercules just smiled at him, and ruffled his hair, trying to lighten the moment. "Someday maybe you'll believe me when I tell you nothing matters more to me than you do."

Iolaus raised his arms, shaking his head, helpless to stop himself, he hugged Hercules. "Thanks," he said simply, thinking, 'Gods help me, I love Elliara, but I feel the same way about you.'

"Anytime, buddy," Herc murmured, then pushed away. "So, when's the big day?"

"'Dite didn't tell you?" Iolaus teased, then relented. "Next Saturday, on the eve of the full moon, that our union may be blessed with plenty," he said solemnly, then cracked up. "It was 'Dite's idea. She is such a romantic."

"Yeah, well, she can't help herself," Herc snorted, going back to work.

He had just finished up inside, about an hour later, when he stepped into the light of the noon day sun. Elliara had been bringing a lunch to Iolaus and gasped in surprise, dropping the basket. "Hercules!" she cried, running to hug him.

Iolaus, hearing her, looked down over the edge of the roof, to see Herc pick her up in a bear hug, twirling her around. "You can see him?" he squeaked, shocked.

Herc looked up at him and laughed at the look on his face as he set Elliara back on her feet, keeping one arm loosely around her. "Well, someone had to be the first," he explained, looking down at her with a fond look, "and, I thought, who better? It's good to see you, Elliara."

"It's good to see you, too! You look wonderful," she smiled up at him.

"See, Iolaus," he said to his friend who had just jumped to the ground, teasing, "she thinks I look wonderful. Why don't you ever say nice things like that?"

"Unhand her, you rogue! I won't have any gods trying to tempt Elliara away from me! It's unfair competition. Besides, she can't help herself, can you?" he said glancing at Elliara with a smile, and then back to Herc, "She's a terminally nice person, even to gods who appear out of nowhere to startle her!"

She moved to his side, putting an arm around him, and kissing his cheek. "I brought you lunch," she said simply.

Hercules chuckled. "Somehow I don't think you need to worry about any competition from any gods, Iolaus. This lady looks like she only has eyes for you, although what she sees in you is beyond me."

They all laughed, as Iolaus turned to retrieve the basket and they all settled on the blanket he spread under the tall oak beside the cottage.

* * *

A week later, Iolaus was standing in the cottage, fussing with his new sky blue silk shirt, courtesy of the Goddess of Love, and his best man was leaning against the wall, laughing at him. "Relax, Iolaus, you look great! And everything will go just fine. It's gonna be a great wedding!"

"Easy for you to say," Iolaus fretted, now starting to pace around the room. "Is everything all right in here?" he asked, checking out the flowers, patting up the cushions on the furniture, gazing around at the shelves full of glazed pottery, the shining pots hanging from hooks next to the hearth. 'Dite hadn't stopped with the shirt. She was determined these two were going to have a beautiful home to live within. Yesterday, the cottage had been empty, whitewashed rooms. Today...his mind stole to the huge bed in the next room, spread with a blue patchwork downfilled quilt over plump pillows and satin sheets.

Herc looked around. "It's nice," he said, a tone of surprise in his voice. "Cozy." Not the crimson 'bordello look' his sister was known to prefer. "Has Elliara seen it yet?"

"Noooo," Iolaus said. "This'll be a surprise."

"Well, I'm sure she'll like it. Now, come on, they're all waiting for us in the Temple," he said, tugging Iolaus toward the door.

"Yeah, right," Iolaus said, following him. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He loved Elliara, wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Gods, he hoped she never woke up one day to find she'd made a mistake.

Herc, glancing back at him, stopped suddenly, Iolaus bumping into him. "Stop that," the god commanded.

"What?" asked Iolaus, looking around.

"That. The 'what if she stops loving me' worry. It's written all over your face. She loves you, as well she should. You're a great guy. And you love her, and well you should... 'cause she's amazing. You're going to have a wonderful life together, Iolaus, so relax and start enjoying it!" Hercules told him, a smile in his eyes.

Iolaus swallowed, nodded. Then, he too smiled. It wasn't what he'd had planned for his life, but it was going to be wonderful. He vowed to himself that Elliara would never have cause for any regrets. "Thanks, Herc," he said quietly, meaning more than the pep talk.

"The least I could do," Herc responded lightly, as he turned back to the Temple, happy for his friend.

* * *

The great hall of the Temple was full, every villager was there. Iolaus paused a moment, thinking back to the last time he'd seen them all there enthralled by the power of an enchanted rose, but tossed the thought aside. Jason, and Lilith were standing near the front, with Erythia and Pandion, all of them grinning ear to ear. King Iphicles had appointed himself Leandra's escort, and they were both smiling broadly, Leandra with tears glistening in her eyes to see her 'boy' so strong and happy.

'Dite was standing behind the altar, her hands clapping in delight when she saw them enter. Heph was standing to the other side of the altar.

Iolaus grinned to see them all, touched that his friends and family had all come. But, then the smile faltered a little in surprise, when he saw Cupid lounging in a corner, a smirk on his face, Athena and Artemis near the wall beside him. Demeter was fussing with the baskets of flowers, and ZEUS was standing grandly beside her, overseeing all the activity in the hall.

Iolaus stumbled to a halt. He turned, his mouth agape, to stare up at Hercules.

"Well, you said the relatives could come...." Hercules said with a grin.

"I didn't think you meant all of them!" Iolaus gasped.

"You haven't seen them all yet," Herc replied, his eyes laughing, gesturing to Hades and Persphone, standing talking quietly with Poseidon.

"This is unbelievable!" Iolaus breathed, not sure whether to be touched or alarmed.

"Don't worry, I made them promise to behave themselves. But, they all insisted. Seems they've grown quite fond of you over the years," Hercules chuckled.

Aphrodite was waving them forward, impatiently. Herc put a hand on Iolaus' back, guiding him through the crowd up to the altar.

The sound of windchimes dancing in the breeze filled the air, then the high, sweet tones of a pan flute began to play. Turning back to the door, Iolaus waited for his bride to enter. When she stepped through the doorway, he smiled at her beauty and look of radiant joy. Her hair was piled high on her head, ringlets tumbling to her shoulders, wisps of raven hair curling around her flushed cheeks. Her eyes sparkled like the sea under the sun, and her smile lit the Temple with light and grace. She was wearing a simple, sky blue silk gown, caught at one shoulder, and draped elegantly down her body. For a long moment, Iolaus had eyes only for her.

And then, the corner of his eye caught sight of her escort, the man who was to give her away into marriage.

"Ares!" he gasped, beyond shock, unconsciously reaching for a sword which wasn't there. Herc laid a heavy, reassuring hand on his shoulder, leaning down to whisper, "It's alright. He insisted on coming. Said he wouldn't miss you getting hog-tied for the world. He'll behave."

"He'd better," Iolaus growled under his breath. Gods, he should have checked on just which relatives Herc had meant. This was one 'brother' he'd never expected to see!

Elliara had reached him, and he took his eyes from the humour-filled gaze of the God of War when she touched his cheek. Looking into those marvellous eyes, he couldn't help the joy which filled him. She loved him. It was amazing. They turned to face the alter as 'Dite called, "Listen up people, we're here to CELEBRATE!"

Hercules threw her a quelling look, and she grinned as she settled down into her role. "We are here to witness the joyous union of Elliara and Iolaus, two of my most favourite mortals! They have touched the lives of many, giving freely of themselves, never seeking recognition or reward. They both have courage, and compassion, strength of spirit, and grace. They each deserve the love of the wonderful person who they love in return. Iolaus, tell Elliara of your love," she commanded.

Iolaus turned to face his bride, taking a deep breath. "Elliara," he said softly, gazing into her eyes, her hands in his, "I love you with all my heart. I promise to provide for you, to take care of you, and to do all in my power to keep you safe. I pray you will be happy with me, that I will never let you down. Like the sky, you encompass my world, and I will cherish you for the rest of my life. I will be forever grateful that you chose me to love, to share your life and to become my wife."

Aphrodite grinned at him, pleased with his words. Turning her gaze to Elliara, she asked, "And you, Elliara, have you something to say to Iolaus?"

Elliara smiled into the shining eyes of her love, tears glistening in her own. "I love you, Iolaus, with all my heart. I promise to stand by your side in sunlight and shadow, to make your home warm and welcoming. I will do all in my power to assure your happiness, and hope you will never tire of me. I gladly give my life to you, and my future...you are the holder of my dreams. Like the sun, you light my world with everlasting brightness and you warm my days. I will be forever grateful that you chose me to love, to share your life, and to become my husband."

"Right on!" Aphrodite cheered, then straightened. Raising her hands in blessing, she said solemly, "I, Aphrodite, Goddess of Love, bless this union and grant you both everlasting love, that you may always know happiness in one another and joy in your family." With a quick warning glare at Ares, she continued, "Let no one sever your bond or threaten your lives together. You are one, and will remain one, until death do you part."

Raising her arms higher, tilting her hands to the sky, she cried, "So kiss the bride already, let's PARTY!"

Iolaus laughed as he pulled Elliara to him, kissing her soundly. "I love you, for all my life," he whispered.

"And I love you, forever," she whispered back.

Then the hall erupted in cheers, hands pounding on Iolaus' back, as people and gods swirled around them, hugging them, kissing them, congratulating them. The pan flute was joined by other instruments as music broke over them, loud and joyous.

The party spilled out of the Temple into the courtyard in front of it, and the lanes beyond. People danced and sang, pausing only to sample the delicacies which had appeared as if by magic, as indeed they had, on tables covered with bright silks and white linens. Lanterns hung in the trees, bringing a festive light to the celebrations. Iolaus tried to hold onto his bride, but it was hopeless as she was swept away by kings and gods, including the King of the Gods. He laughed at her delight, as he turned to catch "Dite and whirled her into the dance.

"Happy Curly?" she asked, her eyes alight with mischief.

"Yes, 'Dite, I am," he replied, his eyes brilliant with joy. "She's wonderful, better than I deserve."

Aphrodite ruffled his curls, before giving way to Persephone, "Ah, I think she's got good taste," she giggled, twirling away to dance with Hades.

After Persephone, Athena, Artemis and even Demeter expected their turn. Followed by Lilith...and then his mother, Erythia.

Iolaus hugged her tight. "Thank you for being here," he murmured.

"I'm so happy for you, Iolaus," she said, gazing at him with pride and love, "I wouldn't have missed today for anything! And I expect grandchildren, do you hear?" She laughed at the look on his face and hugged him again. "By happy, son, just be happy."

Zeus strolled over to them, bowing to Erythia, taking her hand to kiss the fingers. "I'm pleased to finally meet you, Erythia. You have a fine son."

Flustered, she could only nod, then escape as soon as he had released her hand. Smiling after her, Zeus then turned to Iolaus. "I meant it, Iolaus. You're a good man. I've always been grateful, you know that, for the love you've had for my son, and for the care you've always taken of him. This is your time now, and I hope you will be very happy." His eyes finding Elliara in the centre of the dance, in the arms of his grandson, Cupid, he continued quietly, "She's a lovely woman, Elliara...beautiful in every sense of the word."

Iolaus eyed the old lecher, "Yes, she is. And, not to insult you or anything, just remember, she's my wife."

Far from being insulted, Zeus guffawed and clapped Iolaus on the shoulder. "Don't worry, it wouldn't be worth the wrath of all my children if I even considered anything but warm regard and lifelong friendship... even if I thought she could be tempted from your side. Which, my lad, I don't believe would be possible."

Iolaus grinned back, "Thanks for coming tonight, Zeus. I never expected...."

"My son considers you a brother, Iolaus. That makes you my child as well. Of course I came to celebrate with you, and wish you every happiness. You deserve it, son."

Touched by the words, overwhelmed by them, Iolaus lowered his head, only to feel Zeus' hand upon his curls. "You will live long, Iolaus, I promise you...longer than you might think possible."

With that, Zeus turned away, having spotted a particularly charming barmaid by one of the tables.

Iolaus was still bemusedly rubbing his curls, when Ares loomed over him. Stepping back, eyes wary, Iolaus nodded. "Enjoying yourself, Ares?"

The God of War flashed his devilish grin as he looped a heavy arm around Iolaus' shoulders. "You know I am, buddy. Iolaus, sorry as I am to lose a fine warrior like you, I'm happy for you, man. She's a foxy lady!"

Iolaus narrowed his eyes as he looked up into the smoldering orbs of the God of War. "I was never your warrior, Ares, and you're just happy I won't be getting in the way of as many of your plans as I used to."

Ares shrugged as he let his arm dropped from Iolaus' shoulders. "Well, yeah, you got me! But, alls well that ends well, and she is one foxy babe."

"Hands off, Ares," Iolaus warned.

Laughing, Ares wandered off, calling back over his shoulder, "I never force, and she wasn't interested. The lady's all yours, Curly!"

Iolaus stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Ares. The guy never quit trying to make trouble. Still...he grinned, wishing he could have seen Elliara oh so gently tell the God of War to go jump in a lake!

"Evening, Iolaus, nice party. Oh, and congratulations," drawled the sardonic voice of the God of the Underworld.

"Hades! Nice of you to come!" Iolaus turned to his guest with a grin.

Hades nodded, a faint smile on his lips, his eyes playful, so much as they ever were. "Yes, well, I thought it would be nice for both Persephone and I to see you safely married.

Iolaus chuckled at the gentle teasing. Hades had always made a big deal about Persephone's endless sympathy with the quandries Iolaus could find himself in, but the hunter had never believed the god was ever seriously worried.

"Just stay out of trouble, Iolaus. I won't be happy if I see you showing up unexpectedly," Hades cautioned.

"No worries, Hades. I'm retired from the life of adventure," Iolaus assured him.

Hades shook his head, not believing him for a moment. "Right. You promise? No warlords, no monsters for at least fifty years?"

Iolaus rolled his shoulders, "Well, you drive a hard bargain. Maybe the odd monster." Laughing, Iolaus clapped the God of the Underworld on the shoulder, "And, hey, after fifty years, all I'll be able to do is wave a walking stick at the things. Don't worry, I'm in no hurry to pay you a visit."

"Good," Hades intoned, "It was bad enough when Hercules stormed in before. Now that he's a god..." Hades shuddered as he walked away, much to Iolaus' amusement.

Iolaus spied Leandra standing quietly to one side, just watching and smiling as one villager, family member or god approached him, one after the other, to offer their congratulations. Moving to join her, Iolaus took her into his arms, giving her a hard hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad you came, Leandra," he said softly. This woman meant so much to him, this grandmother he'd never dreamed of knowing.

She hugged him right back, then looked up into his sparkling, clear blue eyes, with a gaze of pure, boundless love. "How could I miss this, Iolaus? I can't tell you what it means to me, to see you happy, with such a lovely bride! I've worried about you, you know...and now I know you'll be alright. And, I can see your friend, Hercules, is alright, too...and that you needn't worry about him anymore."

Iolaus looked away for a moment, realizing that she was right. Herc didn't need him anymore, not really. He'd find his way, find his balance. Smothering a last, lost pang for a way of life that was now over, he brought his eyes back to Leandra, and nodded. He hugged her again, then, laughing, he pulled her into the dance, getting a kick out of dancing with a grandmother who was younger than he was.

It was his wedding day. And, he was happy. He had a bride he loved, and who loved him...and a friend who would never die, but would be there to share the joys of all the years to come.

During all the conversation and festivities, he'd lost track of his lovely bride. She'd taken advantage of his momentary distraction, to draw Hercules a little aside to a quieter corner of the courtyard.

"You are as lovely as ever, Elliara. Iolaus is one lucky guy," Hercules smiled down at her, delighted.

She blushed a little, shaking her head. "I'm the lucky one." Laying a hand on his arm, she looked up into his eyes, her eyes sad.

"What is it?" Herc asked, worried. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm just so sorry, Hercules, that this," she waved her hand, "came at such a cost. You know I love him with all my soul, and I am grateful you guided him back to me, more than grateful. I will love you, too, forever, for having always kept him safe. But, I'm truly sorry it's all at the cost of your life."

Herc swept her into a hug. "Ah, Elliara, it's alright. I'm happy, for both of you. Iolaus deserves this, deserves you, your love...a life with you. Don't ever be sorry, about anything. The Fates know what they're doing, I promise."

Pulling away from her, he continued, "I had the great good fortune to have Iolaus beside me for almost the whole of my life. And, I know he will always be my friend, as I hope you will, too. I love him, and I just want him to be happy, and safe."

She reached up to touch his face, a look of profound tenderness in her eyes. "I know, and you can trust me to guard his heart for as long as I live."

He covered her hand with his. "Thank you. Thank you for always understanding, for never making him feel guilty, or me either, every time we left. He's home now, and this time, he'll be staying."

"Hey, what's this? I turn my back for a minute and my bride runs off with my best man?" Iolaus teased, joining them. He spoke lightly, but his eyes wondered at their solemnity.

Elliara turned back to him, taking his hand. "We were just talking about you," she said, teasing back, "and how much we both love you!"

"Oh," Iolaus replied, nonplussed. "Well, that's alright, then," he continued, smiling down into her eyes.

"Uh huh," said Hercules, grinning, a light hand on Iolaus' shoulder, "well, if you'll excuse me, I think three is about to become a crowd!"

They laughed as he ambled away, Iolaus holding Elliara close, then he bent to kiss her gently. "Having a good time," he asked.

"Hmmm," she replied, "The best. Wanna dance?"

Iolaus swept her into the swirl of dancers, caught in the joy of the moment, laughing merrily when the crowd parted for them, clapping in time as the newly married couple danced under the moon.

* * *

Jason and Iphicles were having a wonderful time, most particularly because of the reunion with Hercules. The three of them lounged under a tree, enjoying the music and the wine. It was almost like old times.

Taking a quaff of wine, Jason studied Hercules over the rim of his goblet. Wiping his lips, he said, "You look fine, Hercules. It's good to see you."

Catching the emphasis, Herc looked over with a half grin. "Yeah, well, I figured with so many other Olympians around, no one would really notice one more god." Looking away, his face turning somber, he continued, "I'm sorry for not seeing the both of you sooner."

Iph smiled as he patted his brother's shoulder. "That's alright, Hercules. We both understood. You seem to be taking it pretty well, all things considered."

Jason laughed, "That's for sure, given all the rude things you've had to say about the gods over the years!"

Hercules laughed quietly with them. "Oh how the mighty have fallen, eh, Jason?" He shook his head ruefully. "I can't say I was pleased at first."

"So Iolaus said," Iph interjected, with a grin.

Herc shrugged. "I'm getting used to the idea. And it lets me keep a closer eye on Ares."

They all laughed at that, as their eyes found the God of War dancing with the barmaid, snuggled up tight, oblivious to his father's look of irritation.

Hercules continued, "I was more worried about Iolaus. But, he's alright now. He'll have a good life."

Jason nodded, his eyes lighting on the laughing hunter and his bride. "I'm glad," he said quietly. "Iolaus was made to be a father."

Iph gazed at his brother. "So, Hercules, what's it like on Olympus? What do you do with your time?"

"You mean, besides watch Ares, stomp on Daemos and keep that vixen Discord under some form of control?" Hercules shrugged, "Nothing much. Zeus suggested I watch the gates, in case some errant demon or roaming Titan decides to attack."

Jason snorted. "Sounds like a lot of fun."

Herc sighed. "Right. I gotta admit, it's all pretty boring so far." He shrugged, looking up at the moon. "But, time passes quickly up there, and it's comfortable, I suppose. The good news is, I'll have lots of time to visit you guys, and Iolaus. And, who knows, at some point, forever might prove to be more interesting."

Jason studied him, trying to imagine what it must be like for a man like Hercules, who had never stopped acting against wrongs, defeating evil, to be sitting twiddling his thumbs. "It's better than being dead, Hercules."

Nodding, Herc looked up at him, past the bangs that had fallen over his face. "It is that, Jason. It is that."

* * *

The wedding celebration continued until dawn, at which point the cheerful villagers, priestesses of the Temple, gods and goddesses, surrounded the happy couple, shivvying them to their cottage. They cheered when Iolaus carried Elliara over the threshold, and called out merry encouragement for another hour, when, in high good humour, they ambled away to their own beds...or disappeared, as the case may be.

Giggling as he kicked the door closed behind them, Iolaus lowered Elliara to her feet, enjoying her surprised thrill of joy at their new home. "How did you manage this?" she asked, awed, spinning around, her arms wide, a smile lighting her face.

"Me? I didn't do anything. This is for you, Elliara. You work for a generous goddess," Iolaus smiled at her evident happiness with all that 'Dite had done for them.

She danced back to him, and threw her arms around him. "Not just for me, my darling. She seems inordinately fond of you, too."

Enfolding her in his arms, he lowered his lips to hers, only to lift them a moment later, laughing at the raucous suggestions from outside. "Our families, friends and neighbours seem to have a lot of good ideas," he said.

"Maybe we should take their advice," she dimpled up at him.

"Maybe we should at that," he agreed, eyes dancing, as he took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

* * *

The next two months passed quickly, happily. Elliara had relinquished her position as Chief Priestess upon her marriage, but she remained as a counsellor and adviser, her wisdom sought by priestesses and villagers alike. Iolaus set up the forge, and was soon shoeing horses, hammering out farm implements, knives and axes.

He told himself he was content, happy, and he was. But, he still missed his old life. Resolutely, except for the occasional wistful hope that a monster might wander by, he pushed those yearnings aside. He was a husband now, with a wonderful wife. He loved her, and he was committed to making her happy.

She, wise as she was, noticed the occasional signs of restless, and ordered him off from time to time, to hunt or fish for their larder. She knew he needed the freedom to roam a bit, and she knew Hercules chose those times to catch up with him, that they both savoured those times together. And it worked. He always returned happier, more relaxed. She'd taken to giving meat away to the poor, so everyone benefitted.

But, one day as he held her in the early dawn light, his hands paused in their gentle touch, resting over her abdomen. Her body was changing. His heart suddenly clenched, and his throat was tight. "Elliara?" he murmured.

She laid her hand over his, and looked deeply into his eyes. A slow, beautiful smile crept over her face, and her eyes blazed with love for him. "Yes, Iolaus, we're going to have a child," she answered softly.

'Oh gods,' he thought, reaching to pull her into a tight embrace, knowing she could feel him trembling. She'd think it was surprised joy, so long as she didn't see his eyes. Swallowing hard, blinking rapidly against the tears which had appeared unbidden, he sought for the words, the tone, he knew she'd want to hear. "A child!" he finally managed to gasp, in a credible imitation of awed wonder.

"Hmmm," she breathed contentedly into the hollow of his throat, hugging him. "Isn't it wonderful?" she sighed.

He nodded stiffly, "But, so soon?"

She giggled as she pushed herself up to kiss him. "Yes, well, we were busy the last time you stopped by for a few days, four months ago."

She didn't notice his pallor in the early dawn light, and mistook his trembling shock for surprise. She hugged him again, sighing, "We'll be a family, Iolaus. I'm so happy!" Then, laughing, she rolled over and off the bed. "C'mon, lazybones! The day's abreaking and we both have work to do!" He quite obviously needed a bit of time to get used to what she'd known for months, and she was prepared to give him the space to come to grips with the new idea.

He laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. "Work...right." Then, he too rose to face the day. Before leaving the house, he swept her into his arms, breathing in the scent of her. "I love you," he said, his voice clogged with emotion. "Gods, Elliara, I love you so much."

Grinning in delight, she kissed him quickly, then pushed him out the door. "Go on with you! You're just trying to avoid the forge!" He turned to go, feeling as if the world was shaking under his feet. "Oh, and Iolaus," she called after him, "we could use a fresh rabbit for dinner! Get two or a string of fish and bring Hercules back with you!"

Iolaus found his way to the forge and grabbed his pack. Heading into the forest behind the cottage, he made sure he was out of sight before he leaned back against a tree and slumped to the ground, his face in his hands.

Hercules found him there an hour later, his knees up, arms crossed over them, head on his arms. Dropping lightly down beside him, Herc touched his shoulder, causing Iolaus to jerk in surprise.

"Easy, buddy, it's just me. Are you alright?" Herc asked, his eyes clouded with concern.

"You know? About the baby?" Iolaus whispered, his eyes haunted.

Hercules nodded. "Elliara told 'Dite, and she couldn't wait to tell me. Iolaus, this is wonderful news. What's wrong?"

Iolaus leaned back against the tree, his hand over his mouth. "Anya," he finally muttered.

Hercules groaned softly, suddenly understanding. Anya had died in childbirth. "Iolaus, that's not going to happen to Elliara. She'll be fine," he consoled his friend, a reassuring hand gripping Iolaus' shoulder.

Iolaus gazed at him with stricken eyes. "You don't know that. Nobody can know that, not even a god. I can't bear to lose her, too, Herc. I couldn't stand it. And, she...she doesn't deserve to die, not for loving me."

"Iolaus, she's not going to die! Listen to me, you'll make yourself sick with fear...and you'll upset Elliara. This is a time when you both should be happy, celebrating! You're going to be a father, buddy!" Herc cajoled, squeezing Iolaus' shoulder gently.

Iolaus just shook his head and looked away, shivering. "I'm scared, Herc."

"I know," Hercules sighed. "But, you can't buy trouble. What is it that Elliara told you once? All that's really certain is today, the rest is all conjecture, hope, possibility? Don't anticipate sorrow, Iolaus...don't ruin your todays."

Iolaus rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn't that easy. But, he couldn't hide here in the forest forever. Elliara was expecting him to catch dinner. Pushing himself to his feet, he looked up at Hercules. "Good advice, Herc. Is it just me, or have you gotten wiser since you became a god?" he quipped, half-heartedly.

"I got wiser when I started quoting your wife. C'mon, looks like you're supposed to be doing something about dinner."

Iolaus nodded, hitching his pack over his shoulder. "Rabbit or fish, Herc? Your choice...if you can stay to dinner."

"Fish," Herc said, definitely, forcing a grin from Iolaus.

"Fish it is, buddy," Iolaus replied, leading the way to the stream, doing his best to hide his fear.

Gods, what would he do if something happened to Elliara?

* * *

He tried, he really tried, to hide his fear from her, but Elliara was blessed with unusual perception. And, she knew him too well, could read his every expression, every move. Puzzled, unable to understand why he seemed so anxious, she came up behind him that night, after Hercules had left, and wrapped her arms around him. "What is it, Iolaus? Why are you so upset? Is it the baby?"

Iolaus bowed his head, gripping her hands with his, then he turned, pulling her against him. "No. Yes," he sighed. "Don't misunderstand, Elliara, nothing would made me happier now, than to have a family with you. I've always wanted children. But," he pulled back, looking down into her concerned and worried eyes, "My first wife, Anya...died in childbirth...and, I'm so scared of losing you." His voice broke as he pulled her close again, holding her as if he would never let her go.

She held him tight. She hadn't known. He'd never wanted to talk about Anya with her. "Oh, my poor love," she murmured. "Don't be afraid. I'll be fine, I promise you."

He pulled away then, tense, "Don't, Elliara...don't make a promise you might not be able to keep. We've never lied to one another, never. And, I don't want to start now. You don't know what will happen."

"And, neither do you. Yes, there are risks. Life is full of risks. But, if every woman died in childbirth, there'd not be so many children about!" She smiled softly at him, reaching to run her fingers through his hair. "Thank you, for worrying about me. But, please, don't be afraid. I love that I'm going to have your child. I love you. And I plan to keep on loving you for a great many years."

Iolaus gathered her close, resting his cheek against her hair. "I'll try. I'll do my best not to be afraid. But, I can't promise I'll relax until our kid is here and you are fine. If I annoy you too much with my mother-hen behaviour, just send me to the forge. Okay?"

"Okay. Now, I insist you smile for me and help me decide on names. How about Cornelius?" she asked, pulling back to smirk at his expression. "No, well, I always heard you liked the name Fiduceous?" She smiled when he laughed at that. "Ah, well, we have lots of time before we need to decide." Taking his hand, she drew him toward the bedroom, calling over her shoulder, "Oh, and I expect you to start work on the cradle tomorrow!"

"Yes, my love," he said in his best servile voice, "and, would you like me to canvas the neighbours for pickles?"

She giggled, "That's the spirit! And, while you're at it, see if you can find some anchovies!"

"You hate anchovies," he chuckled back, falling with her onto the bed.

"Hmm...they say there's no accounting for a pregnant woman's tastes," she replied smiling, playing with his hair.

"Yep, that's what they say," he agreed, as he bent to kiss her tenderly.

* * *

The months went by, and Iolaus learned to contain his fear, somedays even daring to hope that all would be well, that this child, and others, would grow healthy and strong, while he and Elliara grew old together. Other days, he pounded his fear out with his hammer, bending hot iron on the anvil.

He doted on Elliara, until she'd send him from the house, yelling playfully, "Out into the barnyard with you, old hen!"

But, as the weeks passed, and she grew more awkward, her emotions tripping up and down the scale, her humour was not all she would wish it to be. He came in one day, to find her stooping over, one hand on her back as the other groped toward the floor to pick up a towel which had fallen from the counter. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Elliara! What's wrong, honey?" he asked, worried, as he bent to retrieve the towel, and then guided her to a chair.

"My back hurts, and I'm fat and I can't move right, or see my feet, and my ankles are swollen, and I'm ugly, and I feel miserable," she wailed.

Propping himself on the arm of the chair, he wrapped an arm around her to pull her close, "Is that all?" he asked, biting his lip to keep from grinning. "I thought you were...."

But, he didn't get any farther, as she slapped at him, crying, "Is that ALL? How about none of my clothes fit, and I'm tired all the time, and I know you must hate me, and...."

He pulled her back, his lips on her hair. "Enough, my girl. I know your back hurts, so come to the bedroom, and I'll rub it for you. And, you're not fat or ugly, you're beautiful. Even your puffy, little ankles are beautiful. We'll get you some new clothes, and you will take a nap every afternoon...the Temple and its supplicants can do without your wisdom for a few hours each day. And, I could never hate you. I love you, passionately. Now, come on, let me rub your back," he said, helping her to stand.

She sniffed, "I still feel miserable," she grumped.

"I know, but it'll pass, I promise. When you see our cute little kid, you'll think it was all worth it," he assured her.

Frowning at him with narrowed eyes, she demanded, "Are you sure?"

He laughed, pulling her into the bedroom, "I'm sure, sweetie." He settled her on the bed, lifting her feet, and helping her roll to the side. He sat beside her, gently kneading her back. Having gone through this twice before, he knew just where to ease her muscles, and she sighed. "You're wonderful, you know that?"

"Yep, I have a pretty wife who tells me that quite regularly," he said, with a grin.

"Wise woman," Elliara murmured, drifting off to sleep.

"Very wise," Iolaus agreed, bending to kiss her cheek.

* * *

There was one incident which marred their quiet life, one shadow from his past which came to darken the village and threaten their happiness. Brixis, a warlord Hercules and Iolaus had defeated some years before, had served his time and had come calling, looking for revenge. And, he'd brought friends. A new gang of rough, soul-less men who sought only to intimidate and destroy.

A young scamp was sent by the tavern keeper, to warn Iolaus that trouble had arrived, and was looking for him.

Iolaus frowned as he listened to the news, glad of the friendly warning, but disturbed by it. He gave the kid a dinar, and sent him home, with an order that he stay there and be safe. Then, straightening his shoulders, his jaw taut, he went into the cottage.

Elliara looked up with a smile which quickly faded at the expression on his face. "What is it?" she asked, concerned, as she moved across the room toward him.

Iolaus took her into his arms. "Trouble," he said quietly. "Elliara, some men have come to the village looking for me...men from the past. I can handle them, but I want you to go to the Temple, and stay there until I come for you."

She clutched his arms, worry clouding her face. "No...I don't want to leave you...."

He forced a smile of reassurance and confidence, knowing he was only half fooling her. "It'll be alright, but I can't deal with them if I'm worried about you. Please, honey...I need you to do this for me. Okay?"

She studied him for a moment, afraid, but knowing she would only distract him, and could even be used against him. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Alright, I'll go," she said, pulling away from him, and walking to the door, knowing he was right behind her. Outside, she turned once, holding his eyes with her own, "I love you," she said, "and, I'll be waiting for you. Please, don't make me wait long...."

He grinned then, and laughed. "I've beaten him before, Elliara. Don't worry, love...it won't take long."

Unable to return his smile, afraid for him, she simply nodded, and headed to the temple, while he went to the forge to get his sword.

They didn't keep him waiting long. When they rode into the courtyard of his cottage, Iolaus was standing with his back to the door, to keep them from being able to surround him. There were a dozen of them, heavy set men clad in leather, on horseback, weapons ostentaciously displayed.

"Brixis," Iolaus said civilly, "I don't recall ever inviting you to visit."

The warlord sneered coldly, "No...I don't suppose you ever thought to see me again. But, I've waited for this moment a long time. Never thought it'd be this easy...you just a blacksmith now, no demigod around to protect you."

Iolaus grinned, his arms crossed, his sword, gripped in one hand, supported on a shoulder. "Well, now that you've stopped by to pay your respects, and you and your lot can go about your business...someplace far away."

"I don't think so," Brixis replied, signaling to his men, who all dismounted, loosening their swords. Dismounting himself, he pulled his own sword from his belt. "This looks like a good place to set up operations...and I intend to make sure you won't be in the way, this time." The warlord lunged at Iolaus, and their swords clashed with a sharp clang, flashing in the sun.

The warlord alone would not have been difficult to handle, his skills were far inferior to Iolaus', but the others moved in as well, intending to kill him while the warlord held his attention. Iolaus soon found himself holding off four men, reduced the number to three when one fell away wounded, only to have two more fill the gap.

The hero didn't wonder that no one from the village had come to his aid, though he knew some had to be watching from cover. This wasn't their battle, nor were they skilled in the arts of war needed to face this lot. He twisted away from one thrust, only to feel a sharp, burning slash along his left arm. Ducking, he rolled, throwing two men off balance, and came up, his sword blocking a downward plunge.

This wasn't good. There were too many.

He took out two more, and was trying to get to Brixis, knowing if he could take the warlord out, the others would soon lose their appetite for battle. But, the warlord had backed away from the flashing sword in his prey's hands, knowing he was no match for the smaller, blond warrior. Iolaus cut and spun, lashing out with all his strength and skill, and took down another mercenary. He could feel the sweat on his brow, and the blood flowing down his arm to his wrist and hand was making the sword's grip slip in his hands.

Grimly, he fought on, determined to take as many as he could, before they took him.

There was a sudden roar of fury from behind him, and a cluster of four mercenaries disappeared in a blast of flame. Their screams lasted but a moment, but before they had ended, the others had pulled back in fear.

Without turning, Iolaus muttered, "Nice of you to drop in, Hercules."

"Don't mention it," his friend growled, moving forward, directly to Brixis, who had suddenly found himself standing alone and isolated in the courtyard.

Hercules batted the warlord's sword away, then grabbed the man by the collar of his cloak, lifting him from the ground, the better to look deeply into his eyes. Furious, the god shook the warlord, to be certain of having his full attention, then snarled coldly, "This village, and this man, are off limits. Do you understand?"

His breath cut off by the strong fist twisting the cloth at his throat, the warlord nodded. Hercules carefully set the man back down on the ground, solititously brushing off the lint from the man's shoulders, straightening the cloak, as he said with deadly calm, "Good. See that you spread the word. Iolaus is, and always will be, my partner. Anyone who bothers him, or his family, will answer to me. Now, take your trash and get out of here...and don't ever come back."

Skittishly, in absolute silence, their eyes on the enraged god, the mercenaries collected the bodies of their comrades, loaded them on the horses, then mounted their own and rode away, knowing they were lucky to escape with their lives.

When they were gone, Herc turned to Iolaus, noting the wounded arm. "Let's take care of that," he said, with a nod to the house, not unaware that Iolaus had not yet said anything. Inside, Hercules poured water from a pitcher into a basin, grabbed a clean rag from a shelf in the kitchen, and turned to tend his friend's arm.

Iolaus watched his friend silently, thinking about what had just happened. On one hand, he didn't like the idea of being under a god's protection, any god, even Hercules. On the other hand, he didn't want to face other old enemies every few months. It might not always turn out so well. And, so long as garbage like that came after him, Elliara, and whatever children they might have, would be in danger. "Thanks," he muttered, as Herc tied off the bandage.

Hercules frowned and bit his lip. He knew Iolaus was a proud man who wouldn't like the feeling of being 'protected'. "Iolaus, I'm sorry if...."

But, Iolaus cut him off, waving a tired hand. "It's alright, Hercules. I mean it. Thanks." He sighed and looked up into his friend's eyes. "Not just for me, but for Elliara. It's better this way, that bad guys like them know we're "off limits". I promised her I'd take care of her, and I guess accepting your help is just part of that commitment." He looked down, then back up with a grin, his eyes flashing, "And, I gotta say, that fireball trick is some way to send a message!"

Herc raised one eyebrow, thinking that he hadn't meant to send the bolt of energy. It had been a thoughtless, godlike reaction of fury and fear, borne of his need to protect Iolaus. He hadn't meant to kill so thoughtlessly. He had to get better control of himself. But, he just nodded in response to Iolaus' quip, relieved to know Iolaus had accepted his intervention. Iolaus might never thank him for such a determined statement of protection for himself, but he would never put his family at risk. He clapped Iolaus on the shoulder, saying quietly, "You know that I know you can take care of yourself...."

Iolaus nodded, "I know...now, come on and play the hero! Elliara is waiting at the Temple, and she'll be glad to see you." He headed to the door, then paused, turning back, a look of awareness in his eyes. "She sent 'Dite to you, didn't she?"

Sheepishly, Hercules nodded. "She was worried about you."

Iolaus just shook his head as he turned to leave the cottage. Snickering to himself, he muttered, "Between the two of you, I should live safely and quietly into a great old age!"

Herc just nodded, following his friend outside, thinking to himself, "That's the general idea, my friend. That's the general idea."

* * *

As her time grew nearer, Elliara fussed about, fixing up the finely carved cradle Iolaus had made, putting the last touches on an endless number of little gowns every colour of the rainbow, dusting the house, making sure that everthing was in order. Iolaus had carved little animal toys, including a small hen on wheels, that could be pulled around the floor. Neighbours and friends dropped by with linens, little knit caps and booties, baby blankets and small treasures for Elliara...sometimes flowers, sometimes a pretty stone, a delicate pottery vase. The men stood Iolaus a round of drinks whenever he happened into the tavern.

And, then, there were the relatives. Herc brought a small rocking horse, with bright saddle and bridle. 'Dite sent heaps of clothes for Elliara, and a soft lacy gown for the child. Heph sent a toy hammer. Athena sent scrolls of nursery rhymes, and Artemis a little stuffed bear, decked out in a hunter's costume. Ares sent toy soldiers and Demeter kept their garden blooming as if it was spring all year long. Iph sent a royal blue, silk blanket for the crib, a matching shawl for the mother, Jason sent beautifully crafted, tiny leather boots, and Hades and Persephone sent soft, chew rings for later, when the baby's teeth started to appear. Pandion and Erythia sent lotions for the baby's skin. Leandra sent a soft blanket she'd woven of cotton, in all the colours of the rainbow. And the priestesses from the Temple, the only family Elliara had ever known, gave her a large, delicately made bottle of her favourite scent, honeysuckle.

One day, a barrel of salted fish arrived, courtesy of the Queen of Sumeria. Deep within it, Iolaus found an oilcloth covered package. Mystified, he opened it and found a small scroll and a beautiful pearl necklace. He smiled softly as he read, "Congratulations, Monkey-boy, and best wishes for every happiness. Enclosed is a small tribute to the woman who rules your heart, so that you might both know I am, and always will be, a friend who loves you both."

Zeus sent a pony.

They were well loved, by all who knew them. And all only hoped for their happiness.

Iolaus found places around the cottage for all the gifts, touched by the thoughtfulness, shaking his head a little at the toy soldiers. Ares never quit hoping for warriors.

But, the pony broke him up. Laughing, he drew Elliara out of the cottage to look at it. She grinned, shaking her head. A pony. "What shall we call it?" she asked.

"How about Zeus, in honour of the guy who sent it?" Iolaus suggested.

Elliara looked up at him, one brow raised. "You don't think he'd be offended?"

"Nah, he'll get a kick out of it. You'll see," Iolaus assured her, with a hug.

"Happy?" he asked her, as they went back into the cottage.

"Oh, yes!" she breathed, turning brilliant eyes dancing with joy to gaze into his. "How about you? How are you doing?"

"Me?" he shrugged, "You mean when I'm not petrified with terror?"

She nodded, her eyes clouding with concern.

He pulled her into his arms, "Well, when I'm not petrified, I'm happy, too."

And he was...when he wasn't petrified with terror.

* * *

She pushed on his shoulder, calling to him, "Iolaus! Wake up! It's time."

'Huh, what?" he mumbled until her words sank in, then he rolled over, pushing himself up on his elbow. "Time? Are you sure? Are you alright?"

"I'm very sure, daddy dear, and yes, I'm fine...but, you'd better get the midwife," she assured him with a grin that quickly vanished in a flash of sharp pain. Biting her lip, she suggested, "You might like to hurry."

Gods! Right! He bolted from the bed, pulling on his pants and vest. Making sure she'd be alright alone, nodding when she just told him to go, he turned and ran from the cottage, racing past the Temple to the lane where the midwife lived. "Herc!" he called, as he ran, "I need you buddy, RIGHT NOW!"

He skidded to a halt in front of the midwife cottage, pounding on the door, not caring if he woke up the whole village.

The old woman finally opened the door, frowning, until she saw who it was. And then she smiled. "Ah, Iolaus, I guess Elliara sent you?"

She turned, leaving the door wide, as she went back to find her supplies, Iolaus following her into the darkened interior, lit only by a tiny fire in the hearth. "Yes, Dagma, Elliara sent me. Please hurry!"

The old woman chuckled, well used to nervous fathers. "Keep your pants on lad, I'll be but a minute."

When she turned with her bag, he took it from her, hastening her from the house. "Now, when we get there," she began, to occupy his mind, "I'll want you to heat up buckets of water."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he mumbled, knowing full well the heating up of endless pots of water was more to keep the father busy, than anything truly useful. He clamped a hand around her arm, to steady her through the darkened streets.

"Calm down, Iolaus," she reassured him. "Elliara's a strong, healthy woman. She'll be fine," she said, refusing to be hastened. He'd have her trotting through the streets, if he had his way. Well, if he wanted her to trot, he should have brought that new pony for her to ride. Smiling and shaking her head, she thought, 'Fathers. Gods save me from them!'

Iolaus guided her around the Temple, and along to their cottage, biting his lip to keep from shouting at her to hurry. He knew he was being stupid, everything would be fine...had to be fine.

But, he was terrified, could hardly breathe, a fist clenched around his heart. His throat was dry and tight, and he knew his hands were sweating. 'Gods, let her be alright' he prayed, over and over, in his mind.

Finally, they were back at the cottage. Pale light streamed from the windows. Elliara had gotten up, lit dozens of candles, gathered clean sheets and towels, and set water to boil in the kettle over the fire. She'd also made tea, turning to force a mug into Iolaus' hand as he came in the door. "Drink it," she said, with a grin, "It'll keep you calm."

He set the mug down, and put an arm around her. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he said, turning to guide her back to their bedroom.

"No, she shouldn't. She's doing exactly the right thing, walking about, being active," Dagma chided, taking his other arm, pulling him away. "And you, my lad, are going to do what you should do...take the tea and go outside, and stay out of our way. I'll call you when it's time to greet your new baby. Now out."

Iolaus shook his head, his face pale, his eyes wide. "No, I'm staying. I won't leave her."

"You're not, and you will," Dagma said firmly, hands on her hips, glaring up at him. "From the look of you, I'd say you're about to pass out, and I'll not have you sprawled all over the floor, getting in the way. *Out!"

She stretched out her arm, pointing a finger toward the door. "Now."

"It's alright, Iolaus, she's right. Everything's fine. Go sit on the bench under the tree," Elliara urged, pushing him toward the door.

He wasn't going to go. She looked past him, a grateful smile on her lips when she saw who had just arrived. "Hercules, your friend refuses to cooperate. Would you take him outside, please?" she asked.

"My pleasure," Herc replied with a grin, hooking one strong hand around Iolaus' arm, and drawing him gently, but determinedly, out of the door.

Iolaus, however, twisted and pulled free, moving back to Elliara. He took her into his arms, holding her close. Then he kissed her tenderly. "I love you. Please be all right," he whispered.

"I'll be fine, my love. Now go play with your friend. I'll see you later!" she smiled into his eyes, and pushed him back toward Hercules, who made sure not to let him go this time.

"If you have to," she called after them, "take him fishing!"

Herc looked back with a smile and nodded. "Don't worry. He's safe with me."

"Thank you," she said, winking up at the god, as she closed the door behind them.

Iolaus stomped to the bench, and dropped down on it, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. Herc sat down beside him and rubbed his back. "She'll be fine, Iolaus," he said softly, feeling Iolaus tremble under his hand, knowing his friend could hardly breathe for his fear.

"Gods, I hope you're right," Iolaus whispered. Then straightened to look at Hercules. "Don't let Celesta come, please," he begged.

Herc clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Iolaus, Elliara is going to fine. Now breathe."

Iolaus shrugged off the comforting hand, standing to pace, back and forth, in front of the bench, hands shoved in his belt to keep them from shaking. Herc watched him pace, back and forth, back and forth, wearing a path in the ground under his feet. Shaking his head, Hercules wished there was something he could do to ease his friend's fear. Maybe he could distract him a little.

"So, have you decided on a name?" he asked calmly.

"Huh? What?" Iolaus asked, distracted.

"Names. Have you decided yet?" Herc repeated.

Iolaus shook his head tightly. "No, not yet. Figured there was still time," he said, wringing his hands.

"Well, there is, still time, I mean," Herc said, a half smile on his face. "Babies don't come when they're called for days, at least."

"Yeah, right," Iolaus said, not really listening as he went back to pacing.

"So, what are the choices you've narrowed it down to," Hercules persisted.

"Choices? Well, uh, let's see. There's Hercules, Jason, Iphicles, Pandion, we can't use Zeus...that's the pony's name, Justin, Leonides, Lorteus, Marcus, Tomas, Aphrodite, Artemis, Athena, Alcmene, Erythia, Angelina, Martina, Persephone, Sherra, Leandra...I think that's all of them," Iolaus rattled off, and Hercules burst out laughing.

"What?" Iolaus turned to face him.

Herc shook his head. "That's quite a list. Are you serious about any of them?"

Iolaus had the grace to grin, lopsidedly to be sure, be it was a grin. "Well, about some of them." He dropped down beside Hercules, running a hand through his unruly curls. "I'm scared, Herc," he said, as if it wasn't obvious.

"I know," said Hercules, again placing a hand on his friend's trembling shoulder.

"Don't go," Iolaus asked.

"I won't," his best friend reassured him. "Not until we know everything's alright, and I've gotten a look at my new little niece or nephew."

"Thanks," murmured Iolaus, his eyes glued to the cottage.

"Anytime," answered Hercules, putting his arm around Iolaus' shoulder, to lend him strength.

* * *

It was quiet for the first couple of hours, and Iolaus had thought that was bad. But, as the first gray light of dawn crept over the village, his sensitive ears had picked up the first, low moan. He was instantly on his feet, heading toward the cottage door, when Hercules intercepted him and gently, but firmly, guided him back to the bench, and pushed him down upon it.

"Herc, I..." Iolaus began.

"Stay," Herc replied calmly.

"But, I," Iolaus started again, coming to his feet.

"STAY!" Herc ordered, more forcibly, pushing on his friend's shoulders until his knees buckled and he collapsed back on the bench. "You know what to expect Iolaus! This isn't the first time...." Hercules could have bitten his tongue. It wasn't the first time. That was the point.

Iolaus ran nervous fingers over his face, pushed both hands through his hair, took a deep breath, "Right." His eyes darting around the yard, he trembled, gripping his hands together. "I just wish it was over and everyone was fine," he whispered.

Hercules dropped down beside him, an arm around his shoulders, shaking him gently, "I know. It'll only be a little while longer."

Iolaus nodded, his eyes again fixed on the cottage, his fingers aching to touch Elliara.

By the time another hour and a half had passed, the occasional moan had given way to low, gutteral grunts that escalated into screams which were hastily bitten off. One hand firmly on Iolaus' arm, Herc looked toward the house. He knew how hard Elliara must be trying to keep the pain inside, to endure silently, but no one could. Not for the first time, he was glad to have been born a man. What had Deianeara said to him once, in complete exasperation after he'd made some stupid comment, like 'it wasn't that bad, was it?'. Oh yeah, 'Just imagine your upper lip being pulled over your head to the back of your neck, Hercules! Now, that wouldn't be so bad, would it?'

Gods, what women had to endure, all in the name of love.

He could feel Iolaus quaking under his hand as he glanced over at the milk-white, sweat-beaded face. Iolaus' eyes were haunted with a fear so deep the blue eyes burned sapphire. Every time one of the groaning screams erupted, he flinched in sympathetic pain, his breathing rapid and shallow.

He hadn't spoken for almost an hour, lost inside the terrors of his mind. Iolaus felt physically ill with fear. He'd never known anything like it, except that terrible night Herc had died. The screams, the soul-deep struggle to hold back the sound of the pain.... He hated feeling helpless, able to do nothing but watch the steady, exorable encroachment of death. Gods, what would he do? How could he stand it? If...?

'Elliara,' his soul wept, 'don't leave me. Please...don't leave me....' She was so good, so kind. Never a bad word to say about anyone. He remembered the warlord Tarsus, a bloodthirsty killer, and she'd felt bad about lying to the man. Gods. He wished he could suffer in her place.

What would he do if she died? How could he go on? There would be no one, no one to hold onto, to have a life with. He'd be completely alone. When he plummeted too low into self-pity, he'd remember the child, their child. Of course, he'd have a reason to go on. Someone who needed his love, his protection, all that he could give.

But, then another scream would come, and he would shudder, locked again in terror. Gods, would it never end?

A tear stole down his cheek, and he bit his lip to stop its trembling. Hands shaking, he clasped them tightly. Time crawled by, punctuated by the sound of life being born. Shaking his head, he wondered why something so wonderful had to be accompanied by such terrible suffering. Why the advent of life had to be overshadowed by the hovering spectre of death.

It was noon, the sun directly overhead, when another terrible scream rose to the sky, echoing over the rooftops of the village.

By then, several men of the village had gathered to lend moral support, and some had brought flasks of ale. Women had come by with baskets of food, pausing for a reassuring word. Iolaus was oblivious to all of it, all of them. He was only vaguely aware that Herc was beside him, alternately gripping his forearm, or wrapping his shoulders with a strong, steadying arm.

Unconsciously, he'd been timing the screams and tensed for the next. But, it didn't come. He waited, not breathing, until he could stand it no longer. Lurching to his feet, he ran to the door of his cottage. He had to know. 'Gods, please,' his heart cried, 'please don't have taken her....'

He'd only just reached the door when it opened, a broadly smiling Dagma in the doorway. Iolaus almost barreled her over, and had to reach out a hand to steady her. "Is she...?" Gods, he couldn't get the words past his choked throat.

Dagma nodded wearily, but with good humour. "She's fine, lad. I told you Elliara is a strong, healthy girl. She's just fine!"

But, her words were flung at his back, as he plunged across the room, to stagger into the bedroom beyond. He stumbled to the bed, falling to his knees beside it, tears glistening in his eyes. "Elliara?" he whispered, trembling.

She was propped on the pillows, her arms cradling a blanket wrapped bundle. She reached out a hand to him, and he gripped it as if it were a lifeline, and he was lost on a tumultuous sea. She was pale, her sea green eyes large in her elfin face, her raven hair spread around her head, little damp curls on her cheeks and forehead. But, her smile held all of the rapture of creation, and those eyes glowed with infinite, abiding love. "Iolaus, oh, Iolaus....she's beautiful!" she whispered, a tear of joy sliding down her cheek.

Iolaus kissed her fingers, laid his cheek against the back of her hand for a long moment, giving thanks to the Fates for having spared her. Her hand turned, brushing his cheek, then riffling through his curls. "Come here, my love, see our wonderful daugher," she murmured.

Iolaus raised his head, and stood to slip his hip onto the side of the bed. Elliara pulled back the corner of the blanket and Iolaus had his first look at the little lady who would rule his heart for the rest of his life. He didn't see the red, wisened face of a new born babe. No, the new father saw a halo of golden curls, a cherub's pink face, long honey-coloured lashes over eyes the colour of the sea after a storm. Heartshape rosy lips. Tiny, perfect curled fingers.

"A daughter?" he murmured in awe. "She's...perfect...." His eyes filled with tears as he reached out to delicately stroke a satin cheek, and let her minuscule fingers curl over the tip of his. He looked up into Elliara's eyes, overwhelmed by the miracle of love.

"I want to call her Dawn," Elliara said softly, thinking, 'because it's the dawn that brought the sun to brighten and warm my days.'

"Dawn?" he queried softly, looking down at his child, as he thought, 'Dawn, when the sky welcomes the sun, allowing him to live again.'

He laid down upon the bed beside her, his arms wrapped around her and his new daughter, embracing them with love. He nodded, laying his head upon her shoulder, that he might gaze down at their child. "Dawn is the perfect name." He raised his head, his lips finding hers. "I love you, Elliara," he whispered. "You'll never know how much I love you...."

She smiled into his eyes, as she replied, "And, I love you, my handsome hunter, with all my heart."

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Life settled into a comfortable pattern, providing 'comfortable' is a relative concept. Iolaus took gleeful delight in the care of his first daugher, instructing others on how to hold her, as if they'd never touched a baby before, and equal delight in dancing around his beautiful wife, trying to anticipate her every need. He was pleasantly surprised one day, when a giant strode into his yard, carting a large keg of wine under one arm. Giggling at the trail of awestruck villagers who had followed along in the friendly giant's wake, Iolaus tilted his head 'way up, to greet his very welcome visitor.

"Typhon! Gods, it's good to see you! How're Echidna and the kids?" he called.

Typhon lowered himself to one knee, carefully placing the cask on the ground beside him. "They are well, Iolaus and hope you and your family will come to visit soon. You know Echidna loves babies!" the genial giant bellowed, with a huge grin.

Elliara had come to the door, Dawn in her arms, at the sound of the bellowing, and the joyful greeting in her husband's voice. But, she stopped, her mouth opened in awe at the sight of Typhon who, even kneeling, towered over Iolaus.

Laughing, Iolaus went to draw her forward. "Elliara, this is my very good friend, Typhon. Typhon, this is my wife Elliara, and our daughter, Dawn."

The giant nodded solemnly, acknowledging the introduction. "I am very pleased to meet you, Elliara...and so very glad to see my friend, Iolaus, looking so well. He's been very good to me, and my family and we're happy to know he has a family now, too."

Shyly, the giant twisted his head a little to look into the face of the bundle in Elliara's arms. He looked at Iolaus, one eyebrow lifted hopefully, as he held out a hand. "May I?" he asked, with a sweet, innocent voice.

Iolaus nodded, and said quietly to Elliara, "It's alright...he'll be very gentle. You can let him hold her."

Elliara cast a quick look at her husband, then took a deep breath. Stepping forward, she said, "I'm glad to meet you, too, Typhon. I know you and Echidna have been good friends to Iolaus for a long time." She held out her child and laid the infant gently in Typhon's massive palm.

"Ohhh, she's beautiful," Typhon crooned softly, cradling the tiny child carefully in the hollow of his hand, then looked up, his eyes sparkling with tears of joy. "You make sure she knows her Uncle Typhon and Aunt Echidna will always be there if she ever needs us!"

Iolaus had to blink his own eyes, as he nodded, his arm around Elliara's shoulders. "I will," he said, then laughed when Dawn started cooing and giggling up at the giant, unafraid, aware only of the kindness in his eyes, and the security of his massive hand holding her safely.

* * *

The first few months of unmitigated joy flew by, but by the time Dawn was crawling, standing on her own and bravely learning to take her first steps, Iolaus was again lost in fear, worse if possible that the first time. Anya had died giving birth to their second son, and Elliara was now traveling the same path, pregnant again ten months after Dawn had been born.

She no longer played a fulltime role in the Temple, but people would come to their cottage door seeking her words of advice to bring balance and perspective, hope or acceptance, words to lend courage or comfort. Iolaus was becoming annoyed, but she didn't complain and wouldn't hear of turning anyone away.

But, she was tired. Keeping up with a daughter who seemed to have inherited both her father's boundless, restless energy and endless curiosity was a fulltime job. She was less accepting of the nausea which heralded each new day during the first three months. They tried teas, and potions, and dry toasted bread, but nothing much seemed to help. Iolaus took more time with Dawn, and helped around the house, not even pausing to consider how some warlords, and their minions, he had known would howl in delight to see him dusting, washing dishes and pots, or sorting laundry with an active baby curled over his shoulder, or standing clinging to his leg.

The nausea passed, but was followed by tears, sometimes of laughter leading to slight hysteria, sometimes sentimental melancholy and sometimes of almost incoherent anger and frustration. He soothed, hugged, disappeared with Dawn when that seemed to be the temperate thing to do. They celebrated Dawn's first birthday, with Hercules, Jason, and Lilith, Erythia and Pandion. The doting grandmother couldn't get enough of the delightful, laughing child, and both Iolaus and Elliara were grateful for the respite.

The upside of all the busyness and activity, in the house and in the forge, was that Iolaus was too occupied to fixate on his fears. They'd catch him, off-guard, at the strangest moments, when he was rubbing Elliara's back or feet, when he was working in the forge while trying to keep Dawn from creeping around in the dirt and sharp leavings of his work, when he woke in the middle of the night. In those moments, an almost paralyzing terror would sweep over him, clutching at his heart, choking the breath in his throat. He'd break out in a sweat and his hands would tremble.

Irritated with himself, impatient with his own weakness, he tried to argue himself out of the fear, tell himself he was acting like a child who was afraid of the dark, but it didn't help. Reason was not the weapon to battle these terrors, nor was his strength. Nothing but time, and what it would bring, could chase those phantoms of darkness from his heart.

The busyness also stole his time from what had become routine getaways to the forest and stream to visit with Herc. He tried hard not to resent it. He loved his wife and adored his daughter. But, he missed his friend. Hercules seemed to understand, to hold no resentment at being sidelined, at least for a while. But, it bothered Iolaus. More than bothered him. He needed Herc, and the time they spent together. It grounded him. And besides, he just missed the big guy. Missed him with an ache that was always there.

Oh, Herc came by, and even did his bit, taking Dawn for long walks, entertaining her, helping in the forge. He even turned his hand to making the odd soup or casserole, refusing to simply 'snap' them into creation, taking a certain satisfaction in preparing food for the mortals he loved best. And, he tried to help Iolaus cope with his fears, if only to listen and offer encouragement, support and reassurance.

It was all part of normal life. Iolaus sagged into his chair late one night, gazing into the fire. And, he'd thought 'normal life' would be dull. Gods, who had time to even notice.

He was a wreck when the second baby decided on making its entrance to Greece. Herc felt heartfelt relief that this time, though accompanied by what sounded like similar effort, was much shorter in duration. He really wasn't sure whether Iolaus would make it without passing out. The second time Iolaus had had to scramble behind the bushes to vomit in anxious, relentless panic, Herc had had to grab him as he swayed, pushing him to the ground, his head between his knees, and remind him to breathe.

But, Elliara had come through with colours flying. She hadn't thought she could feel such blissful happiness again, but as she held the little one to her breast for the first time, she felt transported by love. This time it was a healthy son, bawling his head off, but just as golden as his blond older sister.

This time, she suggested the name 'Patrocles'. Puzzled, Iolaus looked up from his new son's furious red face. "What ever made you think of that name?" he asked, thinking of the brave, martyred hero of the Trojan War.

"Well," she said shyly, "I always heard he was courageous, but compassionate, brave in his willingness to sacrifice his life for his best friend. When I heard his story, it reminded me of a warrior I've had the good fortune to love."

Iolaus lowered his head, and she combed her fingers through the wild, blond curls. "I'm just glad that my warrior has lived to tell the tales, no matter how often he rushed in against impossible odds, to watch the back and guard the life of the friend he has always loved so well."

"It's a good name," he murmured hoarsely. "He was a good man."

"And so are you, my love," she whispered, as she moved to kiss his cheek, tasting the salty moisture upon it.

* * *

Three more times, Iolaus endured the torments of fear, and three more times Elliara survived, triumphant, the last time giving birth to twin boys. Another daughter and three more sons. Six children in just over eight years. Dawn, Patrocles, Helena, for beauty, Simonides, for wisdom, Alexandros, for courage and Doreion, for joy. While Elliara understood his fear for her, even treasured it as a measure of the depth of his love, she nevertheless became increasingly impatient with it. Most particularly since the older children could sense Papa's terror and it frightened them.

So, on the eve of Alexandros' and Doreion's arrival, fortunately a fast and almost painless affair, despite there being two of them, again 'almost' being a relative term, Iolaus cuddled Elliara in the quiet of the night. "How many children did you hope to have, dear wife of mine?" he asked quietly, realizing they'd never discussed it. The first had come so fast after their marriage, the others following in such rapid order, Elliara not wanting to worry him with the discussion and him not able to even contemplate more in the dizzy aftermath of her successful confinements.

"Why?" she asked. "Do we have too many?"

"No," he chuckled in easy assurance. "But, I've lived fifty summers, and you, my love, are fast approaching forty. So, I thought we might enjoy those we have, without," he almost said 'risking', "being greedy in wanting more."

She curled against him, her head nestled on his shoulder. "Alright, I can be satisfied with the angels we have."

He closed his eyes, and let out a soft sigh, unspeakably glad he'd never have to face that fear for her again.

She smiled quietly, feeling him relax, understanding, and loving him for loving her so well.

* * *

The twins were almost a year old when the first whispers of a possible danger surfaced in the valley. As spring turned to summer, farmers complained bitterly in the tavern that someone was making off with their young lambs...and then a much loved dog disappeared. People assumed there must be a lion in the hills, stealing down in the darkness to hunt more vulnerable beasts. It was a problem, but not one to raise alarm, let alone panic.

The hunters set out, to track and hopefully trap and kill the beast. But, they found no tracks, just the evidence of old kills in isolated crags, the ground too rough to tell them much about the animal they were after, too hard to hold tracks. Several though, Iolaus among them, noticed the recurrance of sharp grooves dug in the dirt. And, they wondered. The gouges were deeper than a lion's claws would make, and they left tracks of three, not five, claws.

Summer wore on, with news of more small animals gone missing, but still no one had seen anything, no tracks, no sign. Children were kept from running free in the forests near their homes, and parents kept a wary eye, most of all when dusk started to fall. Wariness, and a distant worry, turned rapidly to alarm when a child of six from the next village disappeared. An hysterical, inconsolable mother protested the little one had just been outside, behind the house at the edge of the village. She'd heard a sharp cry, and had run outside, but there was nothing there...no one there. Her little girl had simply disappeared, her ragged, well loved doll, lying in the low grass, the only evidence she'd been there at all.

Parents took to keeping their children indoors, unless they were with them. Whines to go outside, harried exclamations for quiet, to settle down, became a constant sound from cottages in all the villages along the deep valley, and in scattered farms in the hollows and hillsides. Tempers frayed, in the heat and in the atmosphere of fear.

The nights had just begun to cool when word swept the valley. A hunter had seen it. The monster. A great winged, scaled ugly thing, with sharp talons, and a jutting beak, had been spotted circling high over the mountains to the west. It was rumoured to be huge, with a wingspan of at least twenty feet. And they already knew it was deadly. A raptor had come to their valley.

And, where there was one, there would soon be more.

* * *

Elliara had settled the babies, putting Simonides down for a nap as well, in one of the two rooms Iolaus and Hercules had added to the cottage, one with bunkbeds for the boys, and the other with two cots for the girls. Dawn was playing a game of toy soldiers with Patrocles and Helena on the floor of the main room. Taking a flask of fresh lemonade, Elliara made her way around the cottage to the forge in back, where she knew Iolaus was working that afternoon.

When she came to its portal, she stopped, startled to see him hammering on his old sword, working out the chips in its well used blade.

"What are you doing?" she asked, leaving the sunlight for the shadows.

Iolaus looked up, lowered the hammer and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Fixing my sword," he said without elaboration.

She handed him the flask, and he took a long, grateful swallow. "Why?" she persisted, only too afraid she could guess.

Handing the flask back to her, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth, he shook his head, knowing they were likely at the beginning of one of their rare, but memorable, fights. "Elliara, it's not going to just fly away and leave this valley in peace."

"I know that," she said, trying to hold to a calm and reasonable tone. "But, what does that have to do with fixing your old sword?" she demanded, making him say it.

He looked at her, then set down the hammer, and grabbed a towel from a hook on the wall, wiping his hands, and his brow, before rubbing it around the back of his neck and across his sweaty chest. Putting it down on a shelf, he walked over to her, to take one of her hands in his. "You know I have to do this, go after it," he said quietly.

She pulled her hand away, "No, I don't know that. Iolaus, you're fifty-one years old. There are others, younger men, who can chase monsters now. You do not have to do this."

Sighing, he tried another tack. "You always understood, when I had to leave...."

"That was ten, fifteen, years ago!" she protested. "Before we married, before we had children. It's not the same now, don't you see? You could be killed!"

He shook his head, his jaw set in a determined line, "It's the young ones who could be killed. They've never gone up against something like this before. They don't know what to expect. I've hunted more monsters than I can count on both hands. I know how to do this."

She stared at him. Reason wasn't working, nor was a call to his sense of responsibility for his family. Maybe, an emotional plea would get his attention. "I don't want you to go," she said, not having to pretend the fear in her voice.

"I know," he said, looking away.

"But, you're going to go anyway," she stated, her voice angry.

He nodded. "Please try to understand, Elliara, it's what I do, who I am...." There was a look almost of pleading in his eyes.

She looked away from it. "No, not anymore. What you do is work in a forge. What you are is a husband with six children to care for. You aren't the young hero you used to be, Iolaus." Turning back to him, tears in her eyes, "Dammit, don't you understand? I love you. I don't want you taking this risk. I need you here, not battered and torn, dead, on some mountainside."

He moved to pull her into his arms, holding her stiff and resisting body against his own. "I love you, too, and the children. I don't do this lightly. It's not an impulsive reach for glory. That thing will keep killing until it's brought down from the sky. You, our family, our friends and neighbours, everyone is at risk until it's destroyed. I know how to do this. There's no one else here who does."

When she just kept seething in brittle silence, he tried a tentative grin. "And, I'm not old...at least, I haven't heard you complaining that I'm losing my vigour! I'm in good shape, just as good as I was ten years ago. I'm a hunter, Elliara. I'm very good at it. And I won't let anyone else get killed while I cower in safety by my hearth."

She wouldn't look at him. There was nothing more she could say. He was going. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his quiver of arrows already filled, his bow newly strung, the pack slumped on the ground beside it, full.

"When are you planning to leave?" she asked, her tone cold.

"In a couple of hours. It hunts at night, so I will, too," he replied, letting his arms fall to his side.

"I'll bring your waterskin. Is there anything else you need from the house?" she asked, her voice distant.

"No, that's all," he replied. "But, you don't have to bring it. I'll come inside in a little while, before I go."

"Fine," she replied, and still without having given him another glance, she turned and went back to the cottage.

Iolaus sighed, and went back to work on his sword. A few minutes later, he plunged it into the cooling barrel, steam rising with a hiss from the water. Then, he took the towel and dried the blade, sliding it into it's sheath.

He didn't want to leave like this. But, he was going. It was something he knew he had to do.

* * *

He left the weapons and pack outside the cottage door when he entered. The kids had figured out something was amiss when their mother had stomped inside a little while before, going to her bedroom and closing the door between the rooms.

Dawn scrambled to her feet when he came in, watching him as he pulled the waterskin from the cupboard and filled it from the barrel next to the kitchen work counter.

"Papa," she asked, "Why's Momma so mad?"

Iolaus turned with a slight, shamefaced grin on his face. "I'm going hunting, sweetie, and she doesn't want me to go."

Dawn frowned. Papa went hunting all the time and Momma didn't ever seem anything but happy about it. Then, understanding lit her bright blue eyes. "You're going after the monster," she breathed, more with excitement than fear. She'd heard her Papa and Uncle Hercules and Uncle Jason talking about when they were young. She was a sharp kid and this wasn't all that hard to figure out.

"Yep, your Papa's going after it. It's just like hunting anything else," he said with a confident voice, to reassure any fears she, or the younger children listening intently behind her, might have.

"Will Uncle Hercules go with you?" Patrocles asked from the floor, a grin on his face. He thought it sounded like a fine adventure!

"Well, son, I sure hope so! Your Uncle Herc is very good at disposing of pesky monsters and we used have a lot of fun chasing them together," Iolaus said, pushing the cork into the spout of the waterskin. "Now, you kids be good, and help your mother while I'm away. It should only take a couple of days," he continued, crossing the floor, to hug them, one after the other.

"We will," they chorused and he chuckled. They were good kids. He was a lucky man.

He poked his head past the door to the boys' room, to watch them sleep for a moment, not wanting to disturb them, then turned and entered their bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. She was lying on the bed, her back to him. He heard a telltale sniff.

Moving to sit behind her, he gently rubbed her shoulders and back. "Please don't be afraid, Elliara, and don't be mad. Wasn't it you who once told me that the future is only 'conjecture, hope and possibility'? You're worried about something bad happening when I know it will be good, it will be the end of the monster, and mean safety for all of us. I'll be fine."

"'Don't make promises you don't know you can keep!'" she said, throwing old words back at him. "I said we can only be sure of today. Well, I want to be sure of today. I want to be sure you're safe."

This wasn't getting them anywhere, and he needed to go before the sun got much lower in the sky. "I love you," he said, quietly, not wanting to fight. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

He was at the door when she called him back. Turning, he saw her fling herself off the bed, tears wetting her cheeks, as she flung herself into his arms. He held her tight, his face buried in her hair. "Be safe," she whispered. "I don't ever want to lose you."

He nodded, stroked her hair, and kissed her. "Don't be afraid, Elliara. It'll be all right."

Then, he turned and was gone.

* * *

Iolaus headed directly into the forest, jogging along the old path toward the broken down, ancient temple to Aphrodite, then past it, heading up the valley. He called out, more than once, as he ran, "Yo! Herc! Iolaus to Hercules? We got us a monster to hunt!"

But, so far at least, he hadn't gotten any response. Shrugging, unconcerned, he carried on through the cool shadows of the deep forest until he'd reached the river, and then he followed its path through the long hills, that led up to steep crags.

He remembered where they'd found evidence of the kills, clustered up in the crags at the far end of the valley. It was in the same area where the hunter had made the sighting two days before. Glad the air had cooled a bit from the steamy heat of the past summer, he kept up a steady pace, racing the sun, for the next couple of hours. He wanted to be in the area before shadows blanketed the land, as twilight stole the ends of the day, leaving the silence of the night.

'Old," he snorted, 'she as much as said I'm old!' he thought as he ran, enjoying the feel of the muscles in his legs as he pounded along the earth, and the pull of air in his chest, as he loped in the steady pace he'd perfected years ago. He knew years had passed. He knew there was more grey than blond in his hair these days. But, he didn't feel old. Not inside. Inside, he felt the same exhilaration and excitement as he'd always felt when he'd set out on these quests. He felt alive, fully alive.

His plan was to climb the mountainside, going higher than they had before, to trace the monster to its lair. He had rope he could use to lasso it, bring it down from the air, and tie it to the ground. He had arrows to shoot into a soft underbelly, if there was one, and a sword to slash its neck or skewer its heart, if there wasn't. It was a matter of patience, cunning and skill. Gods, from all they'd heard or been able to surmise, this one didn't even breathe fire. Piece of cake.

But, speaking of fire, he thought a fireball or two might prove useful, and wondered where his errant partner was loitering. Years might pass, but in Iolaus' mind, and in Herc's, they both knew they would always be 'partners'. So, where was he?

Coming to a halt at the far end of the valley, in the lengthening shadow of the hill he was about to begin climbing, he cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed, "HERCULES!" He waited a moment, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. "Well, don't complain this time that I 'didn't even call'," he said conversationally, then shrugged and began the climb up through the trees to a high, broad meadow.

Coming to the gates of a hill farmer, he pushed them open and jogged along the lane to the cottage. Knocking on the door, he tapped a booted toe on the ground, and turned to watch the long pink streaks across the deep indigo sky. It would be dark before long.

The door opened, and Iolaus turned back with a grin. "Celestia, is your charming husband around?"

She cracked a grin back at him. 'Charming' wasn't the word most folks would use to describe her taciturn man. Laughing at the handsome man in her doorway, silver blond wild curls, brilliant dancing eyes, devilish grin, garbed in a hunter green short jacket over black leather pants, patched at the knees, she nodded her head with mock regret, "Aye, he is, Iolaus, we'll have to plan a more discreet meeting."

He laughed with her, and entered when she pulled the door wide. It was a warm, comfortable room, a fire in the hearth, a fragrant stew in the pot. Patchwork quilts were draped over stuffed chairs near the fire, and Bruxius was seated at the polished pine wood table. One brow lifted in welcome and enquiry, as he remarked, "Tis late for a visit, Iolaus. What brings you our way?"

Iolaus sat down across from him, accepting a mug of homebrewed ale from Celestia with a grateful smile. "I'm after that monster that lives up in the mountains above. But, it'd help to have some bait. I wondered if you might sell me a young sheep?" Iolaus explained, before taking a sip of the rich, amber brew.

"Ummm," he sighed in appreciation, setting the mug down.

He'd gotten straight to the point, and waited while Bruxious pondered his request. Well used to the man, respecting him, Iolaus also knew the farmer had no use for small talk or 'nonsense' as he called what most folks considered polite communication and exchange of gossip. Bruxious liked to stick to the facts...and he liked them as simple and clear as possible.

"You going alone?" the farmer asked

Iolaus shrugged, "I expect Hercules will join me sometime this evening."

The farmer nodded, and rose to his feet. "I've got an animal you can take along."

Iolaus rose as well, digging into his coat pocket for the price of the sheep, but Bruxious shook his head, as he pushed a battered hat onto his head, and shrugged into his own wellworn sheepskin coat. "Nay, Iolaus. If you can hunt the creature, I can at least provide the bait. Come along to the pen," he said gruffly, leading the way out into the gathering dusk.

The sheep were penned at the side of the barn, and it took only a moment for Bruxious to cut one out, "Come along ya stupid beastie," he said sternly to the hapless sheep, looping a fifteen foot length of rope around it's wooly throat, and handing the tether to Iolaus. "'E'll not give you any trouble. Timid they are," he said.

"Thanks, Bruxious, I appreciate this. If I can save it, I'll bring it back," Iolaus promised.

"They're cute, I'll grant ye, Iolaus, but your skin is worth a sight more than this un's. Take no risks for the sheep, my friend," the farmer said sentiously, as he clapped the smaller man on the shoulder. "Be very careful...I saw the creature this past dawn. It's an ugly brute, and very large." He cast a doubtful look down at Iolaus, not meaning to insult, concern shadowing his eyes. He liked this little fellow, had fire, he did. But, there was no missing the fact he was small.

Iolaus just chuckled, warmed by the concern. "Don't worry, my friend. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Small and quick can do this trick!" he couldn't resist adding, a teasing light in his eyes.

An answering chuckle rumbled deep in the other man's throat. "Ye're a brave man, though not humble, just take care ye do not stumble," the farmer replied, a glint in his own eyes.

Iolaus broke up. He wasn't sure how many others knew that Bruxious, stern and sober as he appeared to be, had a riotous sense of humour, and loved to rhyme. Must come from hanging around with sheep, he imagined. Long days on the hills with no company can drive a man to play with words. Recovering, Iolaus clasped the farmer's arm, then turned to tug the sheep along behind as he continued up the long hill, calling back over his shoulder, "If all goes well, with no hesitating, I'll see you at dawn. Have breakfast waiting!"

He grinned in delight when he heard a low, rumbling laugh follow him up the hill.

Glad that sheep were surefooted critters, Iolaus made steady progress up above the treeline, over the increasingly steep, and rocky, ground. Night had fully fallen, but there was a full moon, so it wasn't difficult to find his way. A chill had settled with the darkness though, and he was glad of his warm coat, taking a moment to button it up to his chin.

Studying the stars, and the path of the moon, he decided it must still be some hours short of midnight. He climbed up past the last place where they'd found remains, heading to a crag about five hundred feet further up, going as quietly as possible now. There were caves up there, and he'd bet that's where he'd find the lair.

Tying the sheep some distance away from the series of caves, Iolaus crept cautiously toward them. The monster was probably out hunting, but it never hurt to be careful. He paused at each entrance, listening intently, then threw a handful of pebbles into the cave mouth, again listening for the scrabble of talons or other sound indicating an irritated or curious beast. When he heard nothing, he quietly entered each possible den, looking for evidence of meals past.

He found what he was looking for in the third cave.

Satisfied that he now knew where the monster slept, he emerged from the cave, studying the land around. He was standing on a narrow ledge, which dropped for about a hundred feet to a wider span of rock below, before it, too, gave way to a sheer drop of about two hundred feet. Squatting, he studied the access to the ledge below, and looked for any possible cover upon it. There were a few, squat bushes, to which he could tether the sheep. Not far from them was a sizeable rock outcrop and a boulder he could hide behind, that would also give him some cover from above, while he waited for the monster to come after the bait. And, best of all, there was reasonable access. The path was narrow, and crooked, more a sheep's trail than anything, but it led around the side of the mountain to the ledge below.

Nodding, he stood and turned back to get the sheep, and to find a way down to the path he'd spotted.

It took another hour to work himself around and down, but the way wasn't difficult. When he tied the sheep's tether to one of the bushes, it bleated at him, while wide, soulful eyes stared up at him.

He sighed, digging his fingers into the thick wool behind one ear, to scratch the animal. "I know, I'm heartless and cruel. But, I'll really try to get it before it gets you. And you know it's only a matter a time before you end up in someone's stew anyway, so don't look at me like that. I feel bad enough as it is about this," he murmured softly. The young sheep bleated again, then turned around and laid on the ground, quickly falling asleep.

"Well, good, I'm glad you're relaxed, but when it shows up, I want you to get up and yell at it. Okay? Okay. Glad we understand each other," Iolaus whispered, then headed back to his own place under the shallow ledge, behind the outjutting boulder. He pulled the forty foot length of thin but sturdy rope from his pack, and fashioned a lasso. Checking his bowstring, the arrows for ease of access, and loosening his sword in its sheath, he settled back to wait, hunkered down against the wall behind him, his collar pulled up against the cold and his arms crossed for warmth.

As ready as he could be, he looked out over the ledge, across the span of air across to the far mountain, and down to the dark well of the valley below. And he waited.

* * *

The moon had set, and the first gray hint of dawn was lighting the far eastern sky, when Iolaus yawned, stretched, and froze. Was there something...yes! A darker shadow was moving silently in the night, winging its way back to its lair. He saw it dip and swirl in the light wind, admiring its grace even as he plotted its destruction. He threw a handful of small rocks at the sheep, to wake it up. Startled, it rose indignantly, alert to danger, bleating miserably when it found it couldn't move to some new location. It tugged at the rope securing it to the bush, making enough noise, creating enough motion, to satisfy the hunter.

He ducked behind his modest shelter, and shook out the improvised lariat, ready to make his move. He'd been disappointed that Hercules hadn't shown up yet, but resigned that his friend was no doubt off somewhere doing something necessary. Otherwise, he'd have come when Iolaus had first called him, let alone the other dozen times.

The monster swept in over the shelf, still high, examining the unexpected prey, its beady eyes watching the shadows, not really expecting any other predators, but naturally cautious. Seeing nothing but the delectable breakfast on the hoof below, it swooped down, neck arched, talons flaring.

Iolaus waited, waited, then stood, swirling the rope over his head, and throwing it with unerring aim, so that it looped neatly around the monster's long neck. Quickly, his eyes off the beast for a few, fast moments, he moved to tie the rope off, to anchor it, around the large boulder he'd crouched beside all night, before the monster could dart off, dragging the end of the rope from his hand.

As he had predicted unconsciously, the rope had tightened fast, as the monster reacted instanteously to the foreign object around its throat, flying high and away from the ledge until it was yanked harshly when it reached the end of its tether. The monster's startled, and very angry, rasping call of protest echoed over the valley as it flapped madly to regain its balance. The sheep was bawling its little head off, frightened to its bones by the raptor which had almost grasped it in its claws.

But, the thing was quick, and born for battle. Iolaus had barely tied the rope off, when he saw it go slack and turned to see the monster diving at him, only a few feet away. He swiveled and dropped in instinctive reaction, huddling into the paltry shelter of stone, his arms up to protect his head.

This wasn't going quite the way he had planned. The dumb monster was supposed to flap around out there, trying to get loose, while he took a few leisurely shots with his bow. But, the monster wasn't so dumb.

And the hunter had just become the hunted.

Mighty wings flapped the sky, creating loud snaps of sound as it bore down upon him. A shrill cry whistled from the wicked serrated beak, and sharp talons reached for its enemy.

Iolaus yelled when the sharp claws tore at his coat, raking it, finally penetrating to gouge deep into his left shoulder, tearing muscle, scraping bone. He wrenched out his sword, spinning, still trying to protect his head, as he lashed out with his weapon, yelling his head off, in the hopes noise might disconcert it.

No such luck. But, his sword did gouge a long slash into the monster's leathery leg, beating it back for a breathless moment. But only a moment. Shrieking in fury, it came at him again. He ducked to spin out from the corner of rock. What had seemed a shelter was a trap, and he needed room to manoever. Dodging the claws, lashing out again with his blade, he rolled under the attack coming up in the middle of the shelf of rock, which all of a sudden seemed much narrower than it had an hour before.

He jabbed up with the sword, as the monster dove past, still targeted on where he had been. He slashed a deep cut in the belly of the beast, swearing in disgust at the green, foul goop which streamed over him. The monster's cries turned to a gutteral roar, as it wheeled, a wing beating down on him, driving him closer to the edge. "HERC!" he yelled, spinning to his knees, sword held high over his head, "I could use a little help here!"

His sword struck out at one descending set of talons, but the other got passed him. Ducking again, to flatten onto the rock of the shelf, he felt the talons dig into his coat, shredding the material, dragging him as beast fought for a better grip.

Dragging him inexorably toward the edge.

He twisted, slashing back, yelling again as skin was torn from his back. He screamed up at the beast, as he dug the almost useless fingers of his numb left hand into the dirt, to slow the drag, "Would you get off me! My wife's going to kill me for ruining this coat!" He scrabbled for some hold, digging his sword into the rocky earth, gripping it, but it tore loose. "Dammit," he swore, as he felt his left leg dangle into space.

"HERCULES!" he screamed again, as he felt himself dragged over the edge. He reached with his right hand to grab the edge, but it crumbled away under his fingers, and he was falling.

He twisted in the air, instinctively trying to ensure he landed on his back. He'd be a mess when they found him, but at least, at least his family would be able to bear to look at his face. 'I'm sorry,' he thought, as he plummeted to the earth, hoping Elliara might someday forgive him.

He kept his eyes open, staring at the sky, at the first pale fingers of the dawn which crept across the night, dimming the stars. 'Gods, it's a long way down,' he thought, before consciously closing his eyes. He'd look like he was sleeping. It would be easier on her, on Hercules, when they brought him home.

Expecting the impact, ready for it, he was shocked when it wasn't quite like he'd expected.

"OOMMMPPHHH!" The air rushed from his lungs with the force of being caught, his plummet slowed by the arms which had pulled him from the air. Hercules crashed to his knees, and both of them ended up sprawled on the hard, rocky earth, Herc having rolled to end up on the bottom, Iolaus still clutched tightly against his chest.

"You IDIOT!" Hercules shouted at him.

Winded, Iolaus was at the slight disadvantage of not being able to shout back. "I called," he croaked, gasping.

"What did you think you were doing?" Hercules snarled.

"You said we could go after monsters!" Iolaus gasped back, hardly able to believe he was still alive.

"TOGETHER, you dunderhead! Impulsive, thoughtless, stupid, IDIOT!" Hercules snapped back.

"Glad you showed up, Herc," Iolaus managed a weak giggle. He loved it when Herc yelled at him. It meant that, for sure, he was alive.

Hercules laid his head back on the stony slope, rolling his eyes. "What am I going to do with you, Iolaus?" he muttered.

"Help me kill a monster?" Iolaus suggested, hopefully, his breathing coming back to normal.

"You couldn't wait for me?" Herc demanded with a weary, 'here we go again' voice.

"Well, I didn't know how long you'd be, and the thing has already killed one poor little kid, and well, I just figured you'd show up. And I was right. You did," Iolaus explained, finishing a little smugly.

"Lucky for you," Hercules sighed.

"Um, Herc, do you think you could let me up now?" Iolaus asked meekly.

Hercules debated the wisdom of that idea for a moment, then relaxed his arms. It was when he moved his hand to help Iolaus crawl off him that he noticed the blood, and the grimace on Iolaus' face as he tried to lever himself up with one arm.

Hastily, Hercules gripped his friend, more gently this time, and helped him roll off to the side, onto his knees, as Herc came up to a sitting position beside him. "You're hurt," he observed with concern, "let me see."

Iolaus twisted a little to give Hercules access to his back, as Herc rolled up onto his own knees, reaching out with light fingers to seek the source of the blood and evaluate the severity of the wounds. The back of Iolaus' coat was a mess, scored and ripped, sodden with blood. His eyes narrowed in worry, he said, "You'll have to take the coat off. I can't see well enough to tell how bad it is."

Iolaus moaned softly as they slid the ruined garment from his shoulders. The numbness born of shock and adrenaline had started to wear off, and the left shoulder especially was throbbing badly.

"Oh, nice, Iolaus, very nice," Hercules murmured, sarcastically, as he examined his buddy's shoulder and back. The long scratches along the back looked worse than they were, having torn only the skin. But, the shoulder was of more concern. Though the wounds were bleeding freely from three deep gouges, Herc could still see the dull white of Iolaus' shoulder blade past the shredded skin and muscle. He grabbed the coat, and tore what was left of it into strips. Bunching a wad of material over the wound, he wound the rest around Iolaus' neck, chest and under his arm, to loop around, forming a pressure bandage.

Noticing his buddy was trembling, from shock and cold, Herc snapped his fingers and a new, identical coat appeared in his hand. He helped Iolaus into it, and settled his friend against a rock to support his back.

Iolaus cocked an eyebrow. "So, what's the verdict?" he asked, since he couldn't see the wounds for himself.

Herc gazed at him. "You were lucky, I think. There are three bad tears, but they should heal. Barring infection, I think you'll be okay. That's if Elliara doesn't kill you."

Iolaus grinned, looking chagrined. "Well, yeah, and that's a big 'if'," he said.

Above, they could hear the furious raptor fighting the rope which still held it to the ledge. It wanted to go after it's attacker, finish him off. The pain from the wounds in its own legs and belly weren't improving its disposition any.

Herc glanced up at it. Standing, judging the distance and wind, he pulled an arm back, then flung it forward and up, fire streaming behind a massive ball of energy, that had been timed perfectly to catch the monster as it flapped its mighty wings in a mad frenzy to pull itself loose.

There was a quick, sharp scream, and then the charred remains dropped, landing not far from them. Iolaus looked at it whimsically, "Charbroiled monster on the wing," he commented drily, then turned to Hercules. "You make it look so easy. Takes the fun out of the hunt, don't you think?"

Herc just snorted. "If you'd have waited, it would have been easy," he scolded, looking down at his pale friend.

Deciding attack was always preferable to retreat, Iolaus chided back, "Well, I tracked it and tied it down. All you had to do was shoot. Where were you anyway? I called and called. Called and called. But you never came, Hercules." His voice was that of a woeful soul, lost in the night, having no choice but to have carried on bravely, all by himself.

Shaking his head, Herc looked up at the brightening sky. "Ares is branching out, creating trouble up in Macedonia. I was trying to argue some reason into him," Iolaus snorted at that impossibility, and Herc nodded in agreement, as he continued, "when 'Dite found me. Elliara is some upset, Iolaus. 'Dite says she's never seen the calm and cool, perpetually cheerful wife of yours this frightened or angry."

Iolaus just nodded. It was no more than he had expected. "Yeah, well, she wasn't all that happy when I left. We'll work it out," he sighed. "But, would you come home with me, you know, to protect me?"

Hercules chuckled. "No way. You're on your own with this one. I'll see you to the door and safely into her hands, but that's all. Maybe you could try your 'bravely suffering wounded warrior' bit. That might distract her."

"Uh, no, I don't think so," Iolaus replied, remembering her brittle reminder that he wasn't a young warrior anymore, he was an old blacksmith with a wife and six kids. "Better I try to hide the damage, and pretend it's just a scratch. And forget to tell her about your spectacular catch."

Hercules shook his head. "You might as well face it, Iolaus. She's going to find out."

"You're going to tell her, aren't you?" accused Iolaus.

"Uh huh," Herc confirmed, with a grin. "It was a spectacular catch, and I deserve to enjoy her boundless thanks...."

"Some friend you are," Iolaus groused.

Laughing, Herc reached out a hand to help him up, but Iolaus didn't move. "There's a sheep up there, and my gear. Would you mind getting it for me?" he asked, shivering, reaction starting to set in.

"A sheep?" Herc asked, one brow raised.

"Yeah. I told it if it was good and did its part, I'd take it home. It's tied to a bush," Iolaus explained.

Chuckling ruefully, Herc asked before he disappeared, "Do you always have to make friends with all the little animals while you lead them to the slaughter?"

Iolaus called out to the empty air, protesting, "Hey, I didn't let it get hurt!" And, then, he laughed too, but the action jerked his shoulder. Wincing, he stopped, and laid his head back against the rock, closing his eyes to rest while Herc led the sheep back down the mountain.

Elliara had been right. He really was getting too old for this.

* * *

One hand holding the sheep's tether and the other supporting Iolaus, Herc eased them down the steeper parts and through the forest to Bruxious' farm. Spotting them, the farmer came out to meet them, relieving Hercules of the sheep.

Eying Iolaus, Bruxious asked, "So, did you get the creature then?"

Iolaus nodded, "Yep, tracked it right up to its den."

"You're not bad hurt, are you lad?" the farmer enquiried.

"Nah, just a scratch, not too bad," Iolaus responded.

"Well, breakfast's ready, if you can stay a mite," Bruxious told them, falling into step as they continued down the hill.

"Just what I love, food after a fight!" Iolaus replied with a grin.

Hercules was listening to the banter, with a bemused expression. The first rhyme he'd thought an accident, the second a coincidence, but now he knew it was a game.

"If you've got some cloth, I'll tend his back," Hercules observed to the farmer.

"Yeah, sure, the wife's got quite a stack," the taciturn man replied.

Iolaus giggled, then winced, while Hercules chuckled.

"Bruxious, I didn't know you liked to rhyme," the god said, with a grin.

"Ah, well, you know, it passes the time."

Bruxious put the sheep back into the pen then led the way to the house. Celestia hastily took over the care of Iolaus' wounds, washing them and binding them with herbs and clean rags. They ate lightly, but Iolaus was starting to flag and Herc figured he'd better get his charge home.

They took it slow, but were still back by midafternoon, just a day after he'd left. Hercules, true to his word, escorted Iolaus to his door and gave him into Elliara's good keeping.

She was too relieved to see him home to make much of a fuss in front of Hercules, or the children, but it was a good week before she had fully forgiven him.

She'd never been so angry before, or so frightened. At first, Iolaus wasn't sure how to handle it. He was back, it was over, no lasting harm done. Flare ups, like the ones he and Herc had always had, brief yelling matches, he was used to. They cleared the air, and moved on. But not the silence. He tried to ignore it, but then he just got irritated.

Finally after a week of it, while the younger ones were napping and the older ones were outside playing, Iolaus sat her down before the hearth to have it out. She hadn't been acting mad. She'd cared for his injuries, replied pleasantly to any comments he'd made or questions he'd asked. But, she didn't initiate any conversation, and, at night, she stayed well on her side of the bed, ostensibly so as to not jostle his shoulder while they were sleeping.

Now, she sat across from him, apparently willing enough, but still seeming oddly remote.

Iolaus licked his lips. "When are you going to forgive me?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

She gazed at him, her eyes cool. "I don't know."

"Elliara," he sighed, "I know you didn't want me to go. I know you were worried. But, its not like I do something like that every day, or even once a year. Gods, that was the first time since we married. I had to go after it."

She waited. He hadn't asked a question, so she didn't feel obliged to make any response.

"I'm back, I'm fine. If you're mad, then yell at me. But, I can't stand much more of this silent treatment. It's not like you. And, I don't understand why you can't let it go," he said, his tone a mixture of confusion and exasperation.

"You could have been killed," she said, her voice sharp, and then the words came in a rush. "I have never been so scared in my life, Iolaus. I could have lost you. When you walked through that door, heading into such danger, I thought my heart would stop. You don't know, you never knew, how hard it always was to let you go, to know I might never see you again. But, I did, because I had to, because it was right."

She paused, then said more quietly, "But, I'd come to feel you were finally safe. For so many years, we've lived without any threat or danger, without any reason for you to go to face the gods know what. I forgot how to do it. To let you walk away from me, knowing you might die." Her voice cracked, and she blinked at the tears which had appeared in her eyes.

"You are my world," she whispered, trying desperately to maintain some vestige of control. "You're the reason I want to get up every morning and go to bed at night. You are my sun. Without you, there is only darkness. Don't you understand? I don't think I can live without you anymore. I don't want to. I'm not angry, not mad. I'm sick with fear. Afraid to let you get close again. I...couldn't bear to ever let you go again, not knowing...." her voice broke, and tears poured down her face.

She sat there, completely vulnerable, not knowing what to do with a love that brought this much pain.

In a heartbeat, he was on his knees in front of her, folding her into his arms, holding her while she sobbed against his bandaged shoulder. He stroked her back, one hand tangled in her hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know. You're always so strong. So understanding. I didn't know I'd scared you this badly."

Gradually, the sobs subsided. "I don't want to ask, I can't demand," she murmured brokenly, "but, I beg you, please don't do this again."

He held her quietly, rubbing her back, wondering what he could say. Gently, he pushed her back.

"Elliara," he began, then paused, wondering if it was a fair analogy, and decided it was the only one he had to help her understand. "You remember how frightened I was each time you were going to have one of our children. How terrified I was that you would die?"

When she nodded, brushing her eyes and cheeks, sniffing, he continued. "Okay, then. Each time one of the children came, I felt just like you did last week. Helpless. Scared to death I'd lose you. And, you told me then, that life's a risk. You've always told me we have to enjoy our todays, because we never know what tomorrow might bring. It never got better, Elliara. I was always sick with fear for you. But, we kept having children. Because we love them. Until, I asked you if we could stop, because I didn't think I could face it even one more time...not the fear, the risk of losing you. So, I understand something of what you felt when I went after that monster."

He paused, brushing his fingers through her hair, cupping her cheek, brushing a last tear away with his thumb. "I'm sorry you were so frightened. But, I can't promise that I won't, someday, have to go away again. I hope I won't have to. I won't go alone, again. I promise. But, sometimes, we have to do what we wish wasn't necessary. Maybe that day will never come again. But, if it does, I hope you'll understand. Until then, we have today. And you have to know that I love you, and I will love you every 'today' for as long as I live."

"So, you're saying I should be able to let you go at least four more times before I ask you to stop for good?" she asked, one brow raised in enquiry as she looked into his eyes.

He looked at her, not at first knowing if she was serious. But, then, he saw a glimmer of a twinkle in her eyes, and he smiled, pulling her back into his arms. "Oh no," he said warmly, "I doubt there'll ever be four more times I'd have to face a monster in the next fifty years. No, I won't put you through the same number of terrors you made me endure."

She smacked him, lightly. "It's not like I did it all on my own, you idiot."

He just laughed softly, "Yeah, I know. But you never seemed too sympathetic about how scared I was."

"So, you want a medal for being more understanding than I was?" she asked, with the hint of a giggle.

He shook his head. "Nah, you have to know that kind of fear, before you can understand it in someone else. I had that advantage."

She pushed back a little, to look up at him. "I love you," she said simply.

"More than I deserve," he replied.

"You got that right!" she grinned back. Then, she kissed him.

* * *

Life settled back into its comfortable routine. Iolaus' shoulder healed cleanly, and since he couldn't see the scars, he forgot about it. She wasn't so able to forget. For the rest of her life, those scars reminded her of what love means, when that love has captured your soul.

Months, and then years, passed. The children grew, and though Iolaus had a hard time being civil to Dawn's admirers, he knew the young have to find their own way, their own paths. And, he knew he still had enough of a reputation to dissuade any young scamp from trying too many liberties. Nevertheless, he kept a close watch on the ones who reminded him most of himself when he was young.

Elliara, of course, just laughed at him, and Dawn paid him no attention at all. He didn't scare her.

He didn't know how it had happened, but he found himself with four married children, nine grandchildren and two boys already courting their own life mates. All of his sons were taller, and now a good deal stronger, than he was.

His hair was still thick, but it had long been completely gray. Elliara, too, was gray, but she moved with energy and her impish humour could still match his own. Ten years older than she was, he was forced to acknowledge he was slowing down. He still fiddled around in the forge, making toys for the grandkids. But, more and more lately, he found himself heading for the stream, deep in the forest, to fish.

Hercules came often, and Iolaus was always glad to see him. But, he envied his friend's perpetual youth and strength. Hercules had been a god for thirty years, and somehow, he'd managed to keep his urge to help mortals to the limits he'd accepted of dealing with Ares directly. More often than not, they'd held each other to a stalemate, and Greece had enjoyed almost a generation of relative peace. But, Ares was getting seriously bored, and Hercules knew real trouble was on the way. His heart ached with the realization, knowing there were limits he could not transgress...would not transgress.

It didn't help when Iolaus cajoled and then argued with him to intervene more directly, especially when Ares' forces started to march. Herc knew a good part of Iolaus' irritation was grounded in his own inability to intervene, to make the difference he could have made thirty years before. Silently, the god took the anger, and the jibes, his jaw tight, his eyes turned away.

"Damn it, Hercules. I've had a long life, and a happy one. You don't need to keep the deal for me anymore," Iolaus argued, knowing he was the one holding Hercules back. His life. It wasn't worth the thousands who would die. Not to him.

But, it seemed it was to Hercules.

Disgusted, Iolaus walked away.

Elliara could see his restlessness and frustration grow. Knew he despised his weakness, his inability to enter the conflict, to end it.

"Iolaus," she said quietly, coming to join him late one night, as he sat on the bench under the old oak, staring up at the stars. "How can I help you, my love? How can I help you accept what you can't change or stop?"

He looked up at her, then took her hand, drawing her down to sit beside him, looping an arm around her shoulders, to draw her close. "Ah, Elliara, it's just that I know what one man, or two, can do. To inspire, to lead, to finish a conflict before it's barely begun. It doesn't take thousands, to save thousands. It can take only one."

He looked up at the stars, biting his lip, "Years ago, I could have been that man. But, not today. I've haven't the strength any longer, or the energy. But, it breaks my heart that our sons may have to fight, and die..." his voice cracked. "They don't know how, none of them, none of the young ones today. They've enjoyed peace for so long...."

She hugged him, feeling the trembling of his sorrow. "I'm afraid, too, for our children, and all the other children who will suffer from this war."

He tightened his grip around her. "One day," he muttered, "If I could only have just one day, it could be enough. Gods, Elliara, I feel young inside, strong inside. But, my body's grown old...and weak."

There was a tone of self-loathing in his voice that she couldn't bear to hear. This wasn't his war, wasn't his responsibility.

But, he knew it was. He was the chain that bound Hercules' hands. And, for the first time in thirty years, he felt the anger he'd felt when he'd first learned of the deal Herc had made for his life. And he felt the guilt.

"One day," he whispered again in frustration and despair, knowing he might as well hope for the sun to stand in the sky. It was impossible.

She knew of the bargain that had been made between gods long ago. Iolaus had told her of it, just the night before, with frustrated helplessness and mounting guilt. He believed it was his life that stood in the way.

And, she was afraid of what he might do, believing that as he did.

"If there was one day I could give you, Iolaus, one day of youth and strength, what would you do?" she asked.

He laughed bitterly at the idea, but entered the game of 'what if'. "I'd meet Ares' forces in battle, lead our own, lead them to victory," he said.

"Well, you've never had a lack of confidence," she said, dryly.

"No," he had to smile, "No, I guess I haven't." But, then his face lost its animation, and he turned to her. "Elliara, I can't stand by and watch this happen, not if there is something I can do to free Hercules to act."

She froze, knowing what he was trying to say to her, knowing he hoped she'd understand. Failing a natural death in the next few days, he planned to take his own life. He could see no other resolution.

"No," she said, pulling away from him. "No, not that. Give me a day. Let me see if I can find a way to give you yours."

He smiled sadly at her. "Elliara, it's impossible."

"No, my love," she responded, "The future can hold any possibility. Give me a day."

One more day would make little difference. Ares' forces, and those of the United League of City States, would not come together tomorrow. He could give her one more 'today'. Nodding, he pulled her close, "Alright, honey," he said, quietly, but without hope, "I'll give you a day."

* * *

She went to the Temple and fell to her knees, praying with all her heart to the Goddess who had always heard her, always favoured her. She'd not asked much in all her sixty years. Only twice, once when the warlord had come after Iolaus seeking vengence, and the second time, twenty years before, when she'd begged Aphrodite to send Hercules to Iolaus when he'd set out to kill the monster.

And, now, she begged again. Knowing it might not save her husband, that he might die in the battle he was so eager to join. But, better that, that he die trying to save the young, trying to save Greece from the wrath of a blood-thirsty god, than that he die by his own hand. And, he might well live. He'd been the greatest mortal warrior in Greece in his prime. He'd survived the impossible time and time again. Gods, he'd even come back from the Light to save the world.

Better the possibility that he might live, than the surety that he would die.

She prayed throughout the night, and into the day which followed, oblivious to those who moved around her, the priestesses, the supplicants...even Iolaus, when he came to take her home. She was unmovable, and would remain so, until she'd received an answer.

Whatever that answer might be.

Aphrodite heard her prayers, prayers made from a soul bound in love, prayers grounded in that love. And she could not ignore them. Ares might be royally pissed, but that didn't bother her much. Hercules would be furious at the risk she could allow Iolaus to take. But, he'd never recover if Iolaus took his own life, so that Hercules might stop this abomination from happening. 'Dite hated war. Usually, there was little she could do to intervene, to stop it.

But, this time, she could act. She could act in the name of love, in response to a request made with love.

Iolaus would have his day.

It was late in the afternoon when Aphrodite appeared, and drew Elliara up from her knees. "Hey, enough already!" she said gently, "Like I heard you hours ago. It just took me awhile to make up my mind."

"Please," Elliara whispered, still intent upon her request.

"You know what you're asking? You know the risks?" 'Dite asked, not because she doubted it, but because she knew she'd have some fast explaining to do, and she wanted all her arguments in order.

Elliara nodded, her face pale, her still brilliant eyes full of resolve.

'Dite nodded. "Okay, well, I know he knows the risks. Been there, done that, got the Tshirt, and now he's ready to do it all over again." She shook her head. Curly never ceased to amaze her.

"Will you help? Will you do this?" Elliara implored.

Nodding, 'Dite replied, "Tell Curly to be here at sunset. I'll give him a full day, from sunset to sunset. He'll need time to get to the field where the battle is to take place tomorrow at dawn. He'll need a chariot and fast horses. I'll supply them, too. Tell him to bring his sword. He's gonna play hero one more time." The Goddess spoke with determination, and then she smirked, "He's gonna whip Ares' ass!"

Tears spilled from Elliara's eyes, as she knelt before the Goddess in gratitude, and dared to take one of 'Dite's hands, to kiss. "Thank you," she whispered, overcome.

"Don't be silly," 'Dite exclaimed, pulling the woman back up to stand before her, "I'm gonna enjoy this! A chance to see Sweetcheeks in all his glory...this is not to be missed! Now, go on, go tell him to get his butt in gear!"

Elliara needed no more encouragement. Too aware of the risks of the morrow to be jubilant, she was still triumphant. She'd gotten her man the one day he wanted. It was the best gift she could bring him, and it was brought with all the love in her soul.

* * *

"Iolaus!" she cried, as she ran into their yard. "Iolaus!" He jogged around the corner of the cottage, from the forge, having heard her excited voice.

"What is it?" he asked, coming up to her, wondering at the glow in her eyes, on her face.

"You have your day," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"What?" She couldn't be serious. It was impossible.

She nodded, taking his hand in hers. "Aphrodite says you are to meet her at the Temple at sunset, and you are to bring your sword. She will have a chariot and horses waiting. And she will give you your day, from sunset today, until sunset tomorrow."

Her face crumpled, and she reached for him, holding him tightly while she cried. His arms came up around her, to hold her. But, he was in shock, struggling to believe, to grasp what she had done for him.

And, then it hit. His arms tightened and he hugged her with all the strength he had. Bending his face to her hair, he wept. He'd be young, and strong. He'd have a chance. "Oh Gods, Elliara, my love, my own sweet love. Thank you!" he whispered. "Thank you."

They fought for control, and parted, each drawing in gulps of air, as if they had run a race. He cupped her cheek, "You understand, I will try to return, but...."

He remembered her old fear, and knew what this had cost her.

She nodded, "I know. And, I'm afraid. But, I want you to do this. I know you must."

He looked up to the sky, and saw he only had an hour. Turning, he jogged back to the forge, and built up the fire. Pulling his old sword from its sheath, he set to work, tempering it in the fire. Honing it to perfection.

An hour later, he was back, and she was waiting for him. Together, they walked to the Temple, hand in hand. They climbed the steps and entered, waiting for the Goddesss to appear.

She didn't keep them waiting long. "Hey, there, Curly, I hear you want to kick some ass?" she drawled.

He chuckled, "Yeah, that's the general idea. I hear you can help me do it."

"You betcha!" she crowed, snapping her fingers. There was a flash of blinding light, and when it passed, Iolaus stood before her, in the prime of his manhood, dressed as he had been then, in the purple, patched vest, black leather pants with patches on the knees, wide leather belt with the silver hook clasp, sword at his hip, sturdy boots and woven leather gauntlets. His medallion was around his neck, and a silver earring glinted from one ear. His hair was long, as she'd always liked it, wild blond curls. The lines of his face had smoothed, and his eyes were bright.

"I do good work," she said, with no little satisfaction, as her eyes roamed his body. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Sweetcheeks! Ya got one day. Make the best of it!"

Iolaus looked down at his body, touched his vest and medallion, checked his gauntlets. He could feel the strength. Gods, he'd all but forgotten what it had felt like. He smiled at her, grateful beyond words, but his eyes were full of all that he felt. He nodded to the Goddess, then turned to Elliara.

She was gazing at him in wonder. Gods, he was beautiful. This was the man he had always been inside, but had lost on the outside as the years had worn his body down. He caught her in a tight hug, and kissed her. "I love you," he said, hoarsely, "You'll never know how much."

"I love you, too, Iolaus," she whispered. "Now, go, light up the world."

He gave her a tight nod, remembering the salutation from those years before, when she'd first let him go. Without guilt. Without rancour. With love.

And then he was gone, out the doors, and down the steps, to leap into the golden chariot, which had appeared from the thin air. He gathered the reins, and snapped them, calling to the magnificent ebony steeds, to give him their hearts...and he'd guide them to glory.

Villagers stopped in awe. The younger ones wondering at who this warrior could be. The older ones remembering the man he had been so long ago, recognizing him, were stunned by the vision before them, as he raced past, bound for the fields below Mycenae.

Bound for the battle of his life.

* * *

The amazing stallions drawing the chariot through the twilight and then the deep of night, never faltered in the rigorous pace he set for them. They had a long way to go, and he had to get there in time to assess the enemy's strengths and possible strategies...and to convince the generals to trust him, trust his experience, skill and instincts. Most would be at least thirty years younger than he was, and, if he knew generals, they would be convinced of their own wisdom. But, Iolaus had fought at Troy, and many battles before and since...and he knew Ares. Knew the God's preferences well enough to know how Ares would have coached his own generals.

He grinned. Ares went for the kill, for the glory, fast and quick. It left him vulnerable to surprise and a focused, strategic thrust.

Satisfied in his own mind that he knew what he would propose as that unexpected thrust, and ever willing to throw the dice, take his chance, do his best and let the Fates decide the outcome, Iolaus gave himself up to the joy of the ride. The wind of their passage tore his curls back from his face, and made his vest flow back under his arms. The horses were incredible, and he'd decided there was no way they could be 'of this world'. They raced as if they had wings, flying through the night, and Iolaus was certain that if their dams were earthly mares, their sire had to be Pegasus.

He laughed with the pleasure and excitement of the moment, never having thought, or even dared dream, of having such a gift. Gods, to feel the blood flow, and the muscles of his arms, legs and back strong and steady, playing with the power of the stallions, revelling in their magnificence, balancing in complete control, as the chariot careened around tight curves. If only he could always be like this!

Gods, how great would that be?

Keeping to the comparative flatland along the Bay of Corinth until he had to turn south, through the mountain pass west and south of Iph's City, he made better time than he'd have believed could be possible. There was nothing 'natural' in this night. Not his youth and strength, not the power of the team in front of him, or even the passing of distance with a magical speed.

His laughter caught a moment in his throat, his eyes glistening in the starlight, as he cast a quick prayer of infinite thanks to the Goddess of Love. 'Dite had been generous to him over his long life, beyond generous. He chuckled as he remembered the romantic escapades of his youth and early years of manhood. But more, she'd helped save his life more than once, and she had allowed him to find Elliara... allowed them to find each other.

And now, this. He was overcome with wonder and gratitude for her boundless blessings. Elliara and Aphrodite, the two women who meant the most to him in his life, the mortal and immortal embodiments of love, had given him this chance, not for pride or glory, but simply for love. He vowed in his heart that he would not fail them, or their belief in him. Whatever it took, he would repay their gift in kind, and find the way to allow the mortals of the Greece of this time to live in the light of love and peace, not the darkness of death and war.

As he pulled on the right rein, guiding his stallions onto the narrow road between the mountains, south to the plains of Mycenae, he finally allowed himself to think of one who might not be pleased with his actions in this next day. Other than Ares, that was. Iolaus knew there was a confrontation coming with Hercules. His friend would be appalled at this last risk he was taking with his life. And, as he sped through the night, along the last miles to the battleground, he was fully expecting to be challenged by the god who was his best friend, the god who had the first and best, most binding, claim on his soul.

He hoped Herc would understand, whether he lived or died this day. Understand that this was simply a continuation of all their partnership had meant. They had stood together, against whatever challenge life, or death, or the Fates had thrown at them. But, whenever one had been unable to act, through absence or injury, through other commitments, they had each carried on, standing for what they both believed in. Drawing the lines in the sand between those at risk, and those who meant harm. This was just one more of those times. If Herc could not act, because he'd given his word and would keep to the bargain that had allowed Iolaus to live until this moment, then Iolaus would take the action for them both.

In his heart, he knew that Hercules would have made the same choice, had he been in Iolaus' place.

This is what they did, who they were. Men who risked their all to assure the lives and security of others. It was who they always had been. And, Iolaus knew, Herc would make his stand again, down all the long, endless years of forever, when he was finally free to do so, when Iolaus was gone. Smiling wistfully, Iolaus wished he could share that forever, but then he shrugged off the melancholy. He'd lived and loved more than most were ever granted in this life, and he could have no regrets.

Well, maybe just one. In the deep corner of his heart, his still wished that Medea could have chosen him for the cursed cloak, rather than his friend.

The chariot was charging around the curve, high above the plains of Mycenae, when the stallions suddenly reared and plunged, digging in their hooves, skidding to a stop before the power of the furious god who stood in their path. Iolaus grappled with them, holding them and the chariot steady as they came to a crashing halt. Having also seen the presence in the road ahead of them, he waited, and, as he waited, he scanned the valley below, taking in the campfires of the two armies of warriors, already assessing the relative strength of his opponents and allies, remembering the lay of the land and considering his options.

Hercules glared at him in silence for a long moment, his hands on his hips, his hair lifted by the light wind which blew down from the mountain. Trembling in his anger, he had to exercise every last bit of control he had to keep from flinging Iolaus from the chariot and dragging him back to the village of Moritika, where Iolaus had lived safely for the past thirty years.

The fact that he could tell Iolaus was not impressed with his rage, was in fact ignoring it, didn't help him to calm down.

Finally, heaving a heavy sigh, he strode past the horses to face his partner. Iolaus swung his glance to Herc's eyes, his own calm and sure, his stance confident and ready. "Thought I might see you," he said pleasantly to the furious god.

Herc nodded, still seething. "You can't do this," Hercules said, his voice definite and cold.

"Yeah," Iolaus countered, "I can. And, I will. Herc, calm down. Short of tying me up, you can't stop me. And, I know you have too much respect for me to do that."

"Don't bet on it, Iolaus. I will not have you risking your life like this," Herc declared.

Iolaus looked up at the stars, reining in his own temper. He didn't want to fight, not now. If all did not go as well as he hoped, he might not see Herc in this life again. Running a hand through his hair, he looked back at the friend who had always defined his life. "Herc," he said quietly but with a calm and definite assurance, "if I don't do this, I will fall on my sword. Your choice."

Hercules eyes widened, and his mouth opened in surprise. "You wouldn't," he whispered.

"Yes, I would," Iolaus replied. "One of us has to stop this, Herc, we both know that. I...I'm what stands between you and what's right. So, either I do this, or I get out of your way."

Hercules looked away, his throat tight. Why did all the choices have to be so hard? He knew Iolaus was serious, and if he stopped him now, he'd lose him for sure. But, how could he let Iolaus go down there and risk everything? When he finally looked back, he saw that Iolaus had again gone back to his examination of the forces below, scanning the terrain, looking for hazards and possible advantages, considering his strategy for the battle ahead.

Hercules rolled his eyes and shook his head. 'Stubborn, and singleminded, as ever,' he thought, "Once you've made up your mind, there's no stopping you.' He ran fingers through his hair, and grudgingly nodded. "Alright. Have it your way."

Iolaus turned his eyes back, and grinned. "I knew I could make you see sense!"

Hercules snorted. "I can't help, you know. I can't intervene to coach on strategy, or to hold back Ares' forces from attacking yours."

Iolaus nodded. "I know. I understand. Herc," he paused, looking down, "whatever happens out there today," he looked back up, his eyes burning into the god's, "I want you to know I'm grateful. I always thought I'd die young, but you gave me the chance for a wonderful life...not the one I'd planned, but wonderful, all the same. I know it hasn't been easy for you to to hold back when you've been needed...I know you've paid the cost."

Hercules cocked his head as he studied his partner, then he gave Iolaus a slow smile. "You talk as if this was it. As if I'm not going to be there, with you."

Iolaus' eyes clouded with confusion. "I don't understand. You just said you can't help."

Herc shook his head as he climbed up into the chariot behind his partner. "I can't interfere in the battle, in the lives of mortals who don't concern me. But, I told you a long time ago, Iolaus, you concern me, and I never gave up my right to watch your back. And, that's exactly what I'm going to do today, watch your back. I can't make choices for you, I can't advise. I can't be visible to other mortals, and I can't open a path for you. But, I won't let you go down there alone."

Iolaus grinned brightly. This made it perfect. Once more, they would stand together against the darkness. And, if he fell, Herc would be there to catch him, to ease him to his final rest.

"Back to back?" he said, with a teasing tone.

"Back to back," Hercules confirmed, his voice deadly serious.

With a light heart, Iolaus slapped the reins, and called to the horses. As they flew down the final slope to the plains below, Herc leaned in, saying quietly in his ear, "But, if you dare get yourself killed today, I'm going to follow you to the Other Side and knock you into the next millenium. Do you understand?"

Iolaus giggled, happily. It was just like old times.

* * *

Iolaus raced his chariot along the outside of the camp, until he'd reached the point to turn in toward the command flags. Pulling up the horses outside the large tent, he could see the light of lanterns glowing through the canvas. He doubted anyone had gotten much sleep that night.

He brushed by Hercules, who he knew full well was invisible to everyone but him, to jump out of the chariot and stride to the tent, pushing back its flap. When he entered, he found a group of five men clustered around a table, on which lay a map of the Mycenean plains.

One looked up with a scowl. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm Iolaus, of Thebes," he replied, moving with an easy confidence to the table.

"You have no place here," another growled. "Get out."

Iolaus shook his head as he looked down at the map, noting the maneuvers they'd plotted upon it. Traditional deployments. Predictable. Like lambs to the slaughter. "You've got lousy security," he said, looking up at them with steel in his eyes. "I just rode past your camp, and walked in here, without a single challenge. If that was an example of your preparation and discipline, you're dead."

The others stood to their full height, glaring down at him, trying to intimidate with their power and position.

But, he took no notice. Pointing down at the map, he showed them the flaws in their plan, and explained how Ares' forces would take advantage of them. "Ares's forces outnumber yours almost two to one. If you go against them with the traditional long front, they will dessimate you. But, because that is what they will expect, they also will be spread along a line across the valley, thinning their numbers in any one place. You can't beat them with courage and the willingness to sacrifice all of your lives. But, if you cut off the head, the snake always dies."

Three regarded him with offended anger, one with disdain, but the last, older than the others, watched him with a speculative gaze.

"Who are you to march in here and tell us our business?" one growled, preparing to call a guard to have him dragged out.

But, the quiet one raised a hand for attention. "He's Iolaus, of Thebes," he said soberly, then smiled, "partner to Hercules. The greatest mortal warrior Greece has ever known."

Iolaus looked over at him, and grinned, holding out his arm. The other man grasped it, "I'm Therion," he said. "And I remember when the two of you came to my village when I was a boy, and you saved us from a warlord and his bloodthirsty mercenaries. I also remember the stories. All of them. I don't know how it's possible that you are here now, but, I know it is you, and I thank the Gods for sending you. So," he continued, letting his arm fall to the side, and turning to the map, "Iolaus, of Thebes, tell us what you think we should do."

His finger illustrating his points, Iolaus obliged. Moving the pieces designating their forces, he showed them the way they could win a victory that day. "As each side lines up for battle, we'll be able to spot where their commanders are deployed. Cranicus is the key, and then his two lieutenants, Maltos and Jerash. We'll take Cranicus first. Here's how."

He quickly outlined how their forces would break from the traditional line, to form a flying wedge directed at the part of the line shielding Cranicus, the enemy's general. The foot soldiers would burst through the line, then split, pushing the enemy back to either side, looping to enclose them from front and back, each side targetting one of the lesser leaders. Meanwhile, the charioteers would race through the gap they had created and overwhelm Cranicus, taking him out quickly.

It was a bold strategy, and would not be expected. Too fast, too untraditional for the enemy to regroup for adequate defence, let alone attack. "Without their leaders," he concluded, "they will be in disarray. I'd be willing to bet most will panic and run."

"Who will lead the charioteers?" one asked.

"I will," asserted Iolaus. He waited while they considered his plan. One after another, they nodded, and he let out a silent breath of relief. This had been his first battle of the day. And he had won.

Therion went to the flap of the tent and hailed a passing sentry. "You. Bring the captains of the cohorts. NOW!" The sentry scuttled off to do his duty, and while they waited, the men polished the plan.

In less than ten minutes, twenty captains had crowded into the tent, surprised by the call as they had received their orders the night before.

Theron introduced Iolaus and explained there was a new plan. Ceding the floor to Iolaus, the warrior outlined the strategy, then coached each in the roles they would play in leading their men that day. When he finished, he looked at them all for a silent moment. "Remember, all of you, we are NOT fighting for glory or conquest. We are fighting for our wives and sweethearts, our sons and daughters, our parents, our neighbours. We are fighting for Greece. Our lives stand between security and death, peace and chaos. We are making a stand today for all that we love. We are dedicating our lives to this victory, and we dare not fail."

They listened in silence, caught by the passion in his voice, the fire in his eyes, as he called them to stand for more than themselves, to live or die for more than a day's victory, to stand with him against the forces of darkness. He called them to greatness.

And, then, he grinned, "We're gonna kick their sorry asses, and send them running for the hills!"

They laughed then, spirits high, confident that they would, indeed be victorious this day, despite the heavy odds against them. "Go on, then," Iolaus encouraged, slapping those nearest him on shoulders and backs, "go tell your men why they fight today, and why they will win. Show them the way to victory!"

* * *

Campfires were kicked out as the dawn's gray light stole across the sky, driving the shadows from the plains. The armies lined up across the valley, men checking their weapons, some feeling a mad exhilaration, more feeling fear, as they stared across at the men who would try to kill them that day. Iolaus' side searched the command flags of the enemy, locating Cranicus' position, identifying the target of the wedge they would form when the battle was joined.

Sunlight glinted on armour, sending blinding flashes back into the air. Bright coloured flags streamed in the wind.

There was a collective hush. The silence before the storm.

A ram's horn sounded across the valley. It was the signal. It had begun.

Men screamed as they charged toward one another, but the enemy line faltered, to find their targets running in another direction. For a moment, Ares' warriors yelled in derision, shouting their victory in the face of such cowardice. Their illusion cost them precious minutes, as Iolaus' forces formed their flying wedge, forcing itself inexorably through the thin enemy line.

As the light grew across the sky, dust rose as thousands of feet pounded the earth. Men raged and screamed in determination, grappling with their foes, swords clagging, spears thrusting, arrows swarming like deadly bees, carrying the sting of death. Blood dampened the ground in the centre of melee, turning dust to mud, as the enemy fell before the terrible determination and strength of League of City States.

In less than an hour, the centre of the enemy line had collapsed, and the League's wedge split, driving a gap between the enemy lines, widening it, encircling their foes, intent upon bringing down their respective targeted enemy leaders.

The charioteers had feigned attack on the traditional line, holding them in place, to keep them from regrouping to take the wedge before it had penetrated the centre. Now, seeing the wedge open the way, Iolaus swung his chariot about, racing along the line, gathering the others behind him, and they flew down the gap, erupting into the heart of the enemy's position.

Cranicus had seen what had happened, and knew he had been made the target of the League's wrath. He'd gathered as many defenders around him as he could, and he'd stood high in his chariot, trying to identify the leader of the League's forces, the man who would be coming for him. So that he could be ready to meet that warrior with death.

He cursed at the chaos around him, and his inability to quickly marshall his forces to meet the new, and completely unexpected strategy. But, once a battle was joined, it cost precious minutes to send new orders, to have them understood and implemented. Worse, he'd split his own force. In his arrogance, he'd believed the more than two to one odds would hold the League back, until the quarter of his force he'd split away had marched around the hills to the side, coming upon the League from behind. There was no way to reach those mercenaries...and by the time they arrived, it could well be too late to save this assault upon the League of City States.

His eyes were caught by the blond haired fury in the golden chariot, and saw him take the lead down through the centre of the opened wedge. He marshalled his defenders in front of him and to the sides. He'd not make it easy for them to reach him. They formed a wall of horseflesh and strong warriors, intent upon the destruction of the defenders of Greece. Screaming his own challenge, he whipped his horses to a frenzy, and lashed them toward his nemesis. Like jousters in a faraway land in centuries to come, the warriors bore down upon one another, horses charging like demons. Reins in one hand, swords in the other, the lines of charioteers came together and clashed, slashing out with deadly intent.

Secure in the knowledge that his back was well guarded, Iolaus kept his attention to the front, noting the warriors between him and his goal. He'd thought he'd be the first warrior in his line of charioteers to engage the battle, but he was wrong. He'd not recognized the two black warriors who raced before him, drawing him on. As they reached the enemy's position, they did not hesitate but charged on, rearing and slashing with their hooves, biting, and tearing into the flesh of the enemy's horses, cutting them down, causing chariots to over balance and roll.

His eyes alight with the fire of battle, yelling encouragement to his stallions, and imprecations at the enemy, he cut and slashed with his blade, blocking lances that thrust at him, knocking aside enemy swords, ducking arrows which rained down upon them, drawing blood, hacking and cutting his way toward his goal.

Horses collided and screamed in fury and fear. Men stood streaming with sweat and blood, hair and skin matted with the dust raised by the battle. Eyes burned bright, and lips drew back in grins of rage or howls of terror.

Unaware of the action behind him, as the enemy's ranks had closed to try to cut him off, and separate his forces, one from another, he didn't know of the knife speeding toward his back, to be caught in the air and dropped. Or the spear that surged up from the side and below to impale him, only to be splintered like kindling. He didn't know of the men who had intended to jump him from behind, caught in midleap and hurled to the ground, as if they had hit an invisible wall.

He didn't need to know.

His partner was watching his back.

It took another hour of bloody battle, but finally a space was cleared between Iolaus and Cranicus. Their teams plunged at one another, rearing and shrieking in rage, lashing out with sharp hooves, twisting and lunging until both chariots were unbalanced, throwing their riders to the ground.

Iolaus rolled, coming up with his sword in his hand, to meet the downward slash of Cranicus' sword, blocking it and shoving it to the side, Cranicus shifted and slashed again, and the two men fenced with murderous intent. Cranicus' personal guard charged from the side, only to meet an invisible wall of stone, which sent him crashing to the earth.

Iolaus ducked a slash aimed at his head, pivoted and brought his own blade back hard, cutting through Cranicus' boiled leather and bronze armour, to slash the man deeply in the side. Enraged, the man bore down upon Iolaus. Taller, with a longer reach, he cut and parried, slashed and stabbed, but he couldn't get past his opponent's sword, could not connect, and he became increasingly infuriated.

He was heavily armoured, a man exceeding six feet, stronger than the devil who danced before him laughing, garbed only in a cloth vest and leather pants. It was unthinkable that he would not triumph over this runt.

But, he like so many others before him, in decades long past, had underestimated the opposition. Iolaus had no difficulty fending off the attack, but was himself frustrated at not being able to get close enough for a decisive stroke. He could see the other man's anger build, and knew it was his advantage. Dropping back a half step, he let Cranicus believe he was finally being overpowered. When Cranicus lunged for the kill, Iolaus swiveled to the side, dropped and rolled, knocking Cranicus from his feet. Iolaus spun up in a pivot, bringing his sword down, slashing the jugular in the other man's neck.

Blood spurted, and Cranicus cursed the gods for their perfidy. Ares had promised him victory.

But, all he'd won was death.

Iolaus did not pause to savour his personal victory. Turning, he leapt onto his chariot, which had been set back on its wheels by an invisible hand, and turned his team of stallions to join the next battle. And then the next. Until the two subordinate leaders of Ares' forces had been killed.

But the war had not yet been won.

The battle raged for another two hours, before the attacking forces floundered for lack of leadership. They had no strategy, no plan for recovery in the face of implacable opposition. In their confusion, they'd been killed by the score, and then by the hundred...and then by the thousand. Wounded men cried out for mercy, confusion reined as the men in Ares' forces milled about, not knowing which direction they should move next. Finally, it was too much, as slowly at first, and then like a flood, they cut and ran from the field of battle.

It took another hour to defeat those who had chosen to stay their ground and fight to the end.

The reserve force, having finally come around the mountain, with the intent of sealing their victory, stood appalled at the sight before them. Ares' forces had either run or were dead or dying. It was over before they had even arrived. As the League's forces regrouped to face them, the enemy troops looked for direction from their command flags, but they were gone, trampled in the dust. Their leaders, deciding that life was the best option they could choose that day, called a hasty retreat, and the mercenaries scattered into the hills.

It was done.

Before the sun had reached its zenith, the battle was won.

Cheers broke out among the League's forces, cries of victory a tumultuous wave of sound rolling over the valley.

Iolaus circled the field once more, saluting those who had stood with him, who had followed his lead, then turned his team to the northern hills, disappearing from sight.

It had taken one day.

And, in that day, they began to believe he was a god.

How else could he have arrived to give them their strategy of victory? How else could he have been a man appearing younger today than when, already approaching middleage, it had been rumoured he'd died a generation before, disappearing with Hercules, abruptly absent from the lives of the people? How else had there been an invisible shield at his back, and a team of demon stallions to fight before him?

How else had they won against impossible odds? Prevailed against the mighty forces of the God of War?

The Cult of Iolaus, The Warrior God, was born that day, and it would never, completely, fade away.

* * *

Herc stood with his hand on Iolaus' shoulder, behind him in the chariot, as Iolaus guided the horses up through the mountain pass. "You did good back there, Iolaus," Hercules said.

"Thanks...and thanks for the help. It meant a lot not having to worry about what trouble was coming from behind," Iolaus responded grinning, still pumped by the battle, and the victory. "We did it, Herc! We stopped the war!"

Hercules smiled fondly, "Not 'we', Iolaus, 'you'."

Iolaus shook his mane of curls, "Nah, I'd have been cut down before I got to Cranicus, if I'd've been on my own, and I know it, Herc. And, don't you love these horses! What spirit!"

Hercules laughed. Iolaus had always loved horses, and driving a chariot had been one of his favourite pursuits when they'd been younger. Speaking of younger, "So, how does it feel, being thirty or more years younger than you were yesterday?"

"Ah, Herc, I gotta say, it's great. I took it all for granted, you know...the stamina and energy, the strength and speed, having my body respond the way I want it to, without any creaks or aches. I don't know why we can't just stay like this, not have to grow old. It's not that I mind, exactly. I mean, it's life. If you don't die, you get old, and then you die. It's just that...I've never felt old inside. Somedays, it feels like I'm locked up in some stranger's body, and I can't get out."

He paused for a moment, turning the horses onto the western road along the Bay. "Not that I want to complain, I don't. I have a great life. Gods, who'd have imagined I'd have all those kids, and the grandkids just keep coming...and they're really cute. And, Elliara...well, she's as beautiful as she ever was, if not more."

Hercules had listened, looking down on his friend of a lifetime, a wistful look on his face that Iolaus couldn't see. He'd sorely missed their lives together over the past thirty years, but looking up along the road ahead of him, he knew it was likely that Iolaus would live a great deal longer still. He was strong and healthy, in good shape, for all he complained of growing old. He gently squeezed his friend's shoulder. Young, old, it didn't matter, so long as he had Iolaus in his life.

There was no need for the haste of the night before, so Iolaus had been driving the horses at a much more leisurely pace, enjoying the peace of the countryside, the bright fall sun. Enjoying to the full the experience of being the man he had been. But, as they pushed further westward, he could see the sun dropping as the afternoon progressed, and knew his 'one day' would soon be at its end. He looked out at the world, marvelling at how much clearer it seemed, how the colours were so sharp, the light on the bay so brilliant. His clarity of vision had faded so slowly, he hadn't even realized that he now only saw a dim approximation of the reality around him each day. He sighed. There were satisfactions in growing old, like seeing his family prosper...but, he still didn't like the experience of it much.

They were still some hours from Moritika when the sun slowly slipped down beyond the horizon. He felt it immediately, the chill, and the horses pulled loose, his grip no longer sure on the reins. His hands were knarled, his arms thin. He didn't need to see or feel more to know his day of youth had passed.

"Herc," he called back over his shoulder, "I think you'd better take the reins." He could no longer control the extraordinary strength and spirit of his team.

Hercules reached around him, one hand taking the reins, while he steadied his friend, allowing him to move past and behind him, as he moved forward to drive the team. He'd gotten a quick glimpse of the look in his partner's eyes, a mixture of remembered triumph and resigned acceptance. He shifted to the side of the box, so that he could draw Iolaus back beside him, one arm looped over his shoulder. "It'll be alright, Iolaus...and it was one, incredibly, glorious day," he said quietly.

Iolaus nodded, his eyes straining to see through the darkening twilight, a smile on his lips. "It sure was, Herc. It sure was!"


	4. Chapter 4

Iolaus' wondrous transformation, and his victory on the Plains of Mycenae, were the talk of the village for a couple of months after his safe return home. His kids, now all adults themselves, were proud of him...and not a little awed. Having been born after his escapades with Hercules had long ended, they'd never really believed the extravagant stories of the adventures of their father's youth. But, now they wondered if maybe the stories had all really been true after all. The grandkids, who loved his stories of monsters and gods, accepted the miracle as nothing more than was to be expected of their wonderful grandfather, and were content to pump him for all the gory details.

Elliara was warmed to see him happy again, and beyond grateful to the Fates for having allowed him to come back to her.

But, like all things in life, even miracles, the interest and talk died after a time, and life returned to its calm rhythm. Days melted into weeks, and then into months. And, in those months the cult to the new god grew and word spread of it across Greece, drawing ever more worshipers.

* * *

Ares, when he heard the stories...some idiots actually came to his temples to ask after the 'Warrior God'... at first thought the supplicants meant him. So, he was less than pleased to realize, finally, that there was another god out there, poaching on his turf.

"Great God Ares," the supplicant had whispered, "I humbly ask you to carry my prayers to the Warrior God...."

Like he'd 'carry prayers' to anyone! They were supposed to pray to him!

Seething, Ares materialized in front of the latest, it must be admitted, less than bright, supplicant to demand just who this new Warrior God was supposed to be.

Cowering before the fury of the God, the young would-be warrior mumbled, "Iolaus, Lord, you know, the one who beat...." and then, the supplicant realized how dumb he'd been. How stupid was it to come to worship the victor at the shrine of the God who's forces had been routed in that legendary battle? "Er...you know..." the kid stammered to a halt.

"WHAT???" roared the God. Iolaus? That pint-sized runt who had trailed along after his goody two boots brother for all those years. "You've got to be KIDDING!" he bellowed. Iolaus? A God? It was ridiculous! Mortals weren't gods. They certainly weren't warrior gods. 'Dite was going to pay for this mockery of Olympians. It was all her fault Hercules' pet mortal had been there in the first place.

Oh, Ares hadn't minded how the battle had turned out. A battle was a battle, and the glory of it had been enough to satisfy his boredom for the moment.

But this! It was...mindblowing. Gods, these mortals were sheep. Now they were worshiping a seventy-year-old dodgering old man as a Warrior God! Idiots! All of them! Idiots!

Well, he'd see about this. Thought he was a god, did he?

Ignoring the dolt in front of him, much to the dolt's relief, Ares disappeared in a fiery puff of smoke.

And reappeared in furious splendour in front of the forge where Iolaus was tinkering with the broken wheel of his first great-grandson's toy wagon.

"Who do you think you are!" he raged, bearing down upon Iolaus, who looked up at the God, not really impressed with the sound and fury. He'd seen it all before...often.

"Well, hello, Ares is it? Hi, my name is Iolaus...but you know, I was sure we'd met before," Iolaus replied with a casual shrug.

Undeterred, and unimpressed with the response, Ares strode into the forge and grabbed Iolaus by the front of his shirt, hauling him into the air, so that he could glare into eyes which, after a moment's startlement rapidly blazed back in anger, as Ares shouted into his face, "You are a pitiful, pathetic old man, and I will not have you going around saying you're a god! It's...it's..." Ares spluttered, unable to describe how truly outrageous and unacceptable such an idea was.

"Put him down, Ares, NOW!" a cold voice spoke in his ear. Hercules, who routinely kept a close watch on his intemperate brother, had been right behind the God of War when Ares had set out on his tirade.

Ares opened his fist and Iolaus unceremoniously dropped to the ground, off balance and stumbling a little.

"What in Tarturus are you going on about, Ares?" Iolaus demanded. He might be old, but he was neither pitiful nor pathetic. He'd whupped this guy's butt less than a year ago!

"You! Starting up this ridiculous Cult of Iolaus, the Warrior God," Ares sneered, giving his brother an evil look. "You're probably behind all this. You always did rate this useless runt as something special, for reasons which have always escaped me."

Hercules met the glare with one of his own. "Iolaus had nothing to do with this, Ares, so you can take your 'righteous indignation' elsewhere. Mortals, in awe of his skill and courage in beating your forces to a pulp, started this all on their own."

Ares sniffed, his arms crossed. "Mortals," he spat. "They're all fools!" And then he was gone.

Iolaus had been gazing at Hercules with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. "What's all this about me being a god?"

Hercules was still frowning at the space Ares had occupied. Turning at the question, he hesitated, anticipating Iolaus' reaction when he learned what stories had been spreading about him across the width and length of Greece. The only surprise was that he hadn't heard them before now.

"The League's warriors decided you are a god, and started a cult to worship you after the battle below Mycenae," he explained. "Word of your divinity has been spreading across Greece...and I guess Ares just heard about it."

"My div...a god!" Iolaus repeated, a disbelieving look on his face. He looked down at the body his spirit wore, and shook his head. "I'm an old man! How could anyone think I'm a god?"

"Well, it was the most credible explanation the warriors could come up with to explain your miraculous arrival and youthful strength. Most of them believe you died years ago...so, they decided you must be a god." Hercules shrugged and smiled tentatively, "Seems a reasonable enough assumption to me."

Iolaus looked up at his friend, and he couldn't help it. The idea was ludicrous. He burst out laughing. "Me? A god?" he gasped, holding his side, almost doubled over with mirth. "Gods, Herc, I've heard a lot of ridiculous things in my life...but, that's got to take the prize!"

Herc smiled fondly at this friend, and waited...knowing that when it sank in, Iolaus was likely to have a different reaction. With few exceptions, Iolaus didn't think much of the gods, had never wanted to be one, and....

"You knew about this?" Iolaus challenged, the laughter fading. When Hercules nodded, he demanded, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Shrugging, looking away, Herc replied, "Well..."

"You knew I wouldn't like it much! Gods, Herc, we have to stop this! I don't want people worshipping me!" Iolaus shivered at the thought. "I can't believe this! They think I'm dead?"

Hercules chewed his lip, as he looked back at his best friend. "Well, I guess the stories of the battle have gotten mixed up with the old stories of how we defeated Dahok, when you went into the Light. A lot of years have passed, Iolaus...the younger generation don't all remember that you came back. And, well, they've been leaving offerings at the obelisk...." His voice fell away.

"That you carved for me, above Thebes...." Iolaus completed the thought, appalled. Offerings?

"I think it's too late to stop it...there're thousands of members of the cult and it's spreading like wildfire. You were...are...a popular hero, the stories of your bravery have been told over and over, all through the years. It hasn't taken much for folks to take the stories one step further," Hercules explained quietly.

"My bravery? Get real. Those stories are about you...hardly anyone ever even noticed I was around," Iolaus protested.

Quirking an eyebrow, Herc shrugged, "The stories are about the both of us...and it seems you weren't as invisible as you used to think. They remember you, Iolaus...and they are inspired by you. And, why shouldn't they be? A mortal, who faced all the dangers that anyone could imagine, who guarded the back of a demigod? A warrior, the greatest warrior in Greece, who's courage never faltered...who risked his life time and again to do what was right? And who just did it again, less than a year ago? Hey, you make a better god than any of us up on Olympus...."

Iolaus wearily waved a hand at his friend, turning aside. It was wrong. He wasn't a god. He was a man, an old man at that. People were deceiving themselves, praying to someone who could never hear them, hoping for...something...that would never come. Bad as the gods on Olympus were, they at least heard the prayers, and sometimes they even answered. Ashamed, he amended, the 'bad' reflection. Herc and 'Dite, Zeus, Artemis and Athena, Poseidon, even Hades...they weren't bad. Just...unpredictable. And, except for Hercules, unreliable as well.

But, they were gods. To think people were worshipping him...believing him to be a god. It was wrong!

"I never thought I'd live to see this..." he murmured, dismayed and saddened.

Hercules moved to stand behind his friend, a hand on his shoulder, "The best any god can do, is bring hope, inspire, protect, and encourage people to be the best they can be...and love them. To the extent that you have done all of that, and more, through all of your life, Iolaus, you deserve their good thoughts and thanks. They could choose worse to believe in."

Iolaus just shook his head. "I'm not a god, Herc...gods help them. Because I can't, not anymore."

* * *

Iolaus did his best to just ignore the growing cult to the warrior god, but when a shrine was set up to him, right there in the village, he had to try to stop it. Disgusted and dismayed, he stormed into the small temple one day, interrupting the ceremony.

"Stop this!" he ordered the surprised and confused gathering. "I am not a god and I never will be. You're wasting your time and breath. This...this travesty," he cried, shaking his fists up at the ceiling and waving his arms to encompass the walls, "should be torn down!"

But, they were newcomers, and didn't know him. They saw an old man, his hair gray, his face lined, his body frail, and shook their heads, clearly believing him to be unstable, if not downright crazy. Imagine, him thinking he was the great Warrior God, Iolaus. Two of the young men moved to his side, taking care not to alarm him, and took his arms to escort him outside.

"Take it easy, gramps," one of them said kindly, only to have Iolaus pull away from his hand, furious.

"Gramps? Gramps!" he sputtered, indignant. "If I was your grandfather, you'd know how foolish this is! I am Iolaus, from Thebes, once partner to Hercules. What they saw that day below Mycenae was a miracle, a gift of Aphrodite, of one day of youth. I am not a god!" he yelled, desperate for them to believe him.

But, they didn't. Gently, they forced him from the shrine, and closed the door in his face. He glared at it for a long moment, then his shoulders slumped. How could he battle blind belief and devotion? Shaking his head, he turned away.

"Look out for them, Herc," he muttered under his breath. "Blind fools... someone needs to take care of them!"

* * *

The seasons spun round their eternal cycles, year passing after year in quiet succession, until twenty-three more years had passed. Iolaus had celebrated his ninety-fourth year, and Elliara had danced with him that night. It was to be the last time they danced.

She'd been growing tired. Not unwell...just tired. It took more effort to rise in the morning, and she found herself short of breath during the days. Her ankles had taken to swelling during the day, and her arms ached. Until this past summer, she had walked miles with Iolaus everyday, across the meadow on the other side of the village, through the forest to gather wildflowers. Hand in hand, they had become a familiar sight strolling through the village...familiar and heartwarming. Not all couples were so devoted to one another after fifty years of marriage.

But, now, she grew breathless after a short distance, and so weary she had to lean upon her husband's arm as he steadied her home again.

Iolaus watched, heartbroken, as she grew pale, and weakened more it seemed with each passing day. She was going to leave him. And, he didn't want her to go.

He did all he could to ease her days, and spent long hours just holding her, as they reminisced about the life they had shared, the joy of it...the beauty. She, too, knew she was going, and she wanted to be sure he remembered the wondrousness of their life together, not the sadness of these last days.

One day, she took a chill, and had to take to her bed. It weakened her further, making it harder to breathe, stealing her energy away. She lingered for a week, growing weaker, and weaker.

Until, one night, when Iolaus held her in his arms, to warm her, and just to be near her warmth...the warmth of her heart and spirit...the warmth that had soothed his wounded heart, and brought him happiness again, when he'd thought it gone forever.

She laid with her head on his chest, listening to his heart, the heart which had given her strength, the heart which had touched her soul and bound it with love.

She didn't mind dying, but she hated to leave him.

"I love you," she whispered quietly, her voice little more than a sigh. "You will always be my sun."

He held her close, stroking her back. "I never look at the sky, Elliara, without thinking of you, I never will. I love you, I'll love you until the day I die...and then for every moment after, for all of forever."

She sighed, and settled against him, resting safe and secure in his arms.

And, then, she was gone.

He felt her go, and tears burned his eyes, slipping down his cheeks. "Oh, Elliara," he whispered. "My own sweet love."

He kissed the top of her head, his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her.

Honeysuckle.

Closing his eyes, he whispered a prayer to Hades, to take care of her always.

* * *

He built her pyre with his own hands, not letting anyone, not even Hercules, help him. It was the last task he could do for her. The family was all there, all strong and healthy still. Six children, with their spouses, Thirty-three grandchildren, twenty three with spouses of their own, and forty-one great-grandchildren. Everyone from the villages and farms around came to pay their respects.

Hercules stood beside him, with 'Dite on the other side, sniffing.

Iolaus stepped forward, and pulled a flaming brand from the fire that had been built near the pyre. "Elliara, my love, we will all miss you, your family...your friends. We will miss your wisdom and your laughter. Your beauty and your courage. You gave us love and we give it back to you with all our hearts. We will all miss you, but none so much as I. Rest now, and gather the flowers in the fields of Elysium. Be at peace, my girl. Be at peace," Iolaus said quietly, then shoved the brand into the pyre, standing back as the dry wood caught, and flames rose up on the wind.

He stood and watched until there were no more than ashes. Silent. Remembering. He watched as his children gathered the ashes and placed them in a porcelain urn, to be buried under the old oak by their cottage. He'd watched dry-eyed, his back straight, until it was over.

And, then, he turned to 'Dite, taking her hand. "Thank you, Aphrodite, for always having been kind to her. She loved you well, and was always grateful to have been your priestess, and that you were her friend."

"Oh, Curly, I love her, too," 'Dite whispered quietly, stroking his hair. "She's okay...she wanted me to tell you not to mourn her, but to remember...." The Goddess' voice cracked.

He hugged her. "Thank you...tell her I will...I will remember all the bright days of our life together, and I will always be grateful for her love."

He released the Goddess and turned to his friend. "Hercules...I'll never find the words to thank you having sent me to her, or for the life you have given us, by your bargain with Zeus, all these years."

His composure broke then, and his face crumpled, eyes filling with tears. Hercules drew him forward, hugging him close, holding him while he mourned. "And, I will always be grateful to her, for having made you happy," the god whispered. "Hades said to tell you that he'll take very good care of her."

Hercules felt the frail body shake in his arms. Iolaus had grown old since last night. Tears in his own eyes, Herc held him until the trembling stopped. Then he and Iolaus turned to walk back to the cottage, to join the celebration of Elliara's life with the family and friends who waited for them.

* * *

Iolaus continued alone in the cottage, comforted by the many little touches that spoke of Elliara's love for him. As the days went by, the pain of her loss slipped from a sense of unreal numbness, into a sharper sense of loneliness, and then that, too, faded as the weeks and months rolled on. He kept himself busy making and fixing toys for the children of the village, and with his long solitary walks, and with his fishing trips deep in the forest by the eternal stream.

He tried, consciously, not to slip into melancholia. He was the last of his age. Iph and Jason had died long years before, as had their children. Their grandchildren felt only a remote connection with this old man in a small village near Patros, when they thought of him at all. His own children were entering middle age, busy with their own lives, lives into which he did not wish to intrude too often.

He reflected, one day by the stream, realizing that Elliara had been gone six years now, that time was a mystery. It seemed to run on forever when one was young, a day an endless experience, a week an eternity away and a year too remote to even imagine. But, the years had rolled more swiftly as they piled up together, like an avalanche gathering force until it plummeted and careened down a mountain side, sweeping up all in its path, moving too fast to notice the details of what was being consumed, or missed.

Until, one reached such deep old age that time seemed to slow again. Each day became a gift, if one was prepared to accept it. But the hours could seem interminable, and a year too far ahead to contemplate. He marvelled often, as he reflected back upon his life, at all it had encompassed. He'd lived more than most men would have done in two or three lifetimes...but the days of his youth were the clearest, as if they had happened only yesterday, not far back in the mists of time.

And, inside, it seemed time stood still. Inside, he still felt the same curiousity about the world around him, the same delight in catching a single, silver fish, the same desire to live fully, each and every day. Still, though his mind remained bright and eager for whatever came, he knew his body felt the weight of years, and was slowing down. He walked a good deal slower these days, and tired sooner. When he tried too much, or too fast, he felt a dull ache branch down along his left arm, ending in a sharper pain in his left wrist.

He knew what it meant. His heart was wearing down.

'And, well it should,' he thought, chuckling, as he eased his back against a warm rock and cast his line into the sunbright, rippling stream. 'Your old heart has run farther and faster, beat longer, loved more, than any heart has a right to do. No wonder it's getting tired,' he chided himself.

The sand which measured the moments of his life was running low, running swiftly now as the last grains slipped into the past. In another week, he'd celebrate his one hundredth birthday. He shook his head at the incredible thought. One hundred years. Who would ever have imagined he'd live so long? Chuckling ruefully, as he remembered Zeus' long ago promise, he knew he hadn't.

But, there was no escaping the fact his life was now in the past, his future could not go on much longer. He supposed he shouldn't mind, should instead just be grateful for all that he'd had, but his restless mind could not help venturing toward the future's horizon, wondering at it, wishing he could be part of it. Not like he was, no, but strong again. He smiled at the thought. He'd once had a day more of youthful strength than any man deserves. He'd have to be content with that.

Hercules stood just out of his friend's line of sight, watching him with an aching fondness. He'd seen Iolaus slow down, and had seen his friend's reluctance to let go, his not quite grudging acceptance that his time could well be measured in hours now, days perhaps, weeks if he was lucky. Iolaus rubbed his left arm unconsciously, wincing a little at the almost constant ache there, and Hercules sighed.

It would not be long now. One day...soon...Iolaus' life would end.

Putting a lighthearted grin on his face, the god ambled to his friend's side and dropped down beside him on the grass. It was strange for him, too, to look at this man, and see the gray hair, the myriad lines on Iolaus' face, the thin, frail body and then look into those brilliant blue, unclouded eyes and see the same man, unchanged, who had been the foundation of his life for as long as he could remember.

"Fish biting today?" Herc enquired mildly.

"Not so far," Iolaus replied with a grin. "If something doesn't give soon, I might be reduced to having to ask you to throw a rock in there," he nodded at the stream, "to catch my dinner!"

Herc chuckled warmly. "Just let me know when, Iolaus," he replied, stretching out on the grass, hands linked behind his head, looking up at the clear sky. "So, what are the plans for the big birthday bash?" he asked.

It was rare for a man to reach his centennial year, and the village had been making preparations for weeks, intending to celebrate the event with a festival. Iolaus laughed, thinking about it. He'd always loved festivals! "Well, it should be memorable, Herc! Sounds like everyone from this valley, and the ones adjoining will be there next Thursday. They've got music all arranged, some new minstrel from Argos is coming. There's to be a bard contest, you know, the kind of competition to decide who tells the best story, and they're all supposed to recount episodes from our youthful exploits. The women have already started the baking and cooking. It should be a blast!"

Herc nodded as he plucked a long blade of grass and chewed on it. "I'm looking forward to it!" he said, his eyes dancing.

"I'm glad you plan to come. Wouldn't be the same without you," Iolaus replied, smiling.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Herc assured him, closing his eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth. "Not for the world."

* * *

And what a party it was! Streamers flew in the light breeze, all the colours of the rainbow, giving the village a jubilant air. Wandering minstrels supplimented the main act in the village square. The rich scents of foods and spices tempted the palate of the hundreds who had come to celebrate Iolaus' birthday. There was dancing, and feasting, laughter and stories...lots of stories.

Iolaus danced a jig, to everyone's delight, including his own! He collapsed, laughing, beside his friend on the bench outside of 'Dite's Temple. "Whew!" he gasped, wiping the sweat from his brow, "I'm getting too old for this!"

Herc laughed with him, clapping him on the shoulder, "I can't imagine that you will ever be too old to dance, Iolaus!"

There were bright, happy moments all day long, but the brightest, the happiest, was when Iolaus' great granddaughter presented him with his new, first, great great grandson. When he took the precious little bundle into his arms, he couldn't help the tears. Such a beautiful child. Elliara would have loved him.

Bright blue eyes, the colour of the sky, looked up into his as he traced a light finger down the perfect, satin cheek, then let the tiny fingers curl around his own. "What's his name," he asked with a smile, looking up at the girl who was the image of her grandmother, Dawn.

"Iolaus," she said softly, smiling down at him. His own smile froze and wavered. For all his youthful boasting nigh onto seventy years before, that all his sons would be named Iolaus, not one of his line had ever borne his name. Until now. His bit his lip to stop the trembling, and nodded. "Thank you, child... thank you," he whispered past the lump in his throat.

"Happy Birthday, Iolaus," Herc murmured, draping a light arm around the bowed, narrow shoulders.

* * *

The next day, Iolaus enjoyed a luxurious sleep-in, not rising until dawn was hours past. He puttered about, making himself a cup of tea, and cutting a hunk each of bread and cheese. Then, balancing his feast, he headed out the cottage door, intending to enjoy his breakfast on the bench under the spreading, ancient oak.

But, when he opened the door, and looked out at the bright day, he stopped in surprise. Hercules was there, sitting on a horse drawn wagon, waiting for him.

"What's up, Herc?" he asked, "Looks like you're going on a trip."

"Maybe," Hercules grinned, as he dropped down to the ground, taking Iolaus' plate of bread and cheese, walking with him to the shaded bench. "Depends."

"Depends on what?" Iolaus asked, settling on the bench, taking a tentative sip of the hot tea.

"On whether my best buddy feels like doing a bit of roaming," Herc replied, sitting down beside him, stretching out his long legs.

Iolaus cocked an eyebrow at him as he took the bread and cheese. "Roaming?" he asked, taking a bite.

Herc shrugged, "Yeah, roaming. It occurred to me that we hadn't set out together anywhere for, what, almost sixty years. I thought it was time you got out and around, check out some of the places we used to visit...."

While he chewed, Iolaus studied his friend. Hercules was up to something. And, he figured he knew what it was. Herc had a direct line to the Fates, could visit them whenever he wanted, and Iolaus was sure this meant his time was near. Herc wanted them to spend whatever life he had left, together. Roaming Greece. Like the old days...sort of. Iolaus was touched. He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do, than spend his last days, his last hours, with the best friend he'd ever known.

Nodding, he swallowed. "When do we leave?" he asked, a grin lighting his weathered, lined face.

"As soon as you're ready," Herc replied smiling.

Iolaus stuffed the last of the bread and cheese into his mouth, as he stood and headed back toward the house. "Just let me get my pack!" he called over his shoulder, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time...a very long time. Him and Herc, together again. Hot damn!

Herc grinned at the sprightly gait as his partner jogged back to the cottage, and leaned back against the bench, his arms up along the back of it, content to wait.

It took a while to clear the town, and the valley beyond. There were the children to see, to tell them he'd be away a while. They were shocked that he planned to set out on what could only be a rigorous journey for a man of his great age, and each, in turn, told him he should be taking his ease at home.

He just laughed at them, saying this was the best thing for him...make his blood flow! Make him feel young again...as if he had ever stopped feeling young.

None said what was in their hearts. That he wouldn't be returning from this trip. But, they all knew it, and sorrowed, knowing this was the last time they'd see one another.

But, Iolaus wasn't interested in tears. He'd lived his life with laughter, and he intended to go out as he had lived.

His children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and even the last, great great grandchild, would be fine. They didn't need him anymore. This was his time now. His and Herc's. And he was glad to see the road unfold in front of them.

They traveled south first, along the coast, heading to Olympia, to visit the magnificent grounds, with the glorious temples and the now abandoned arena. The next games wouldn't be held for another two years. Standing there, in the sun, Iolaus remembered the gold he'd won so long ago, for archery and for the short sprint.

They continued heading south, until they reached a small village on the southern coast, where he'd won a glorious chariot race, a race he'd run to fund a home for orphans. He grinned at that thought, wondering what had happened to all those kids over the years. The Orphan's Home was still there, larger, well equipped, and the kids looked happy, well cared for.

Turning north, they traveled over the mountains of the central Peloponnese, enjoying the clear, endless views. At night, Iolaus would trap a rabbit or two, and then they'd curl around the fire, laughing at the memories of their many, and much varied, adventures over the years, recalling old friends, old times, the richness of the lives they had lived together.

They passed through the plains below Mycenae, and Iolaus marvelled again at that 'one day' Elliara had won with her love for him. That ridiculous cult credited him with the win. But, in his heart, he knew it had been Elliara who had saved Greece, because she had believed in him.

They skirted Argos, and headed north to Corinth, spending a day there, enjoying the market and their favourite tavern. They both laughed to see how little it had changed, save for being a little scruffier than it had been then...and it had been scruffy enough then.

They headed out along the road past the old Academy, but didn't go in to the compound. Content to sit and watch the gates, to listen to the high spirited shouts of the youths within, they were both lost in their own thoughts of the times they'd spent there, as youths themselves, and later as men, when Jason had taken it over. So many pranks. So many good times.

Further north still, across the isthmus, and after a day more on the road, they arrived in Thebes. They visited Alcmene's old home, the garden still a riot of colour and sweet scents, lingering a long moment at the flower-carved marker, remembering a woman blessed with grace...a woman who had known how to love with all her heart, fearlessly, joyously. This was the place they had both considered home when they were kids. The one place they had both felt safe and loved as children.

They visited the graves of Herc's family, Iolaus standing back, watching his friend as he knelt alone for a moment by the markers, faded now with age. So much pain, so much loss.

And, yet, Iolaus thought, life is about it all...love, joy, loss, grief, adventure, peaceful moments. Pain and bright happiness. It was a kind of balance, he supposed. One could not exist without the other, much as one would never choose the sorrow.

And, they visited Iolaus' old cottage up on the hill. Whoever lived there now was away, so they could visit the old graves in privacy, where Iolaus knelt in silence.

'So long ago,' Iolaus thought, 'but I remember you still, Anya, and our beautiful sons. I hope you and Elliara are the best of friends, now. Knowing the two of you, I have no doubt that you are laughing at me, and my reckless heart...I love you both, I always will.'

Herc steadied him as he rose from his knees, half lifted him up onto the wagon's seat, and they set off again, heading west now, into the hills.

Iolaus had been laughing, carrying on with one of his famous, endless, aimless monologues, Herc chuckling quietly beside him, as they headed along the road. The old man had thought they were headed to Delphi, though he had no need to visit the oracle to know his future. But, the laughter caught in his throat when Herc guided the horses off the main road, taking a smaller, less well traveled route higher into the hills.

"Herc," he finally managed, very quietly, "I'm not sure I want to go there."

Hercules cast a look down at the man by his side. "I know. You haven't been there in almost sixty years."

Iolaus looked away, having to swallow hard, surprised at the burning in his eyes. This place held the worst memory of his life...it was not one he ever wanted to revisit. "You know why..." he whispered.

Hercules nodded, looking back toward the road ahead. "It was our favourite place, Iolaus, where we were always happiest, ever since we'd been kids. I want to see it again."

"Then, go. I can wait for you here," Iolaus encouraged. He hated the place. Couldn't stand the thought of seeing the site where Herc had died. He knew he was trembling a bit, even at the thought of it. Sure, Herc was a god, and sure he'd stayed part of his life. But, what they'd had, the lives they had lived, had always hoped to live, had ended there in ugly and terrible agony.

"I want to see it with you. I want to fish again in that pool, and sleep under those firs, and take back what was ours...all the moments of joy. All the good memories. Iolaus, I know it's hard, but, please...."

Iolaus was about to refuse. But, then he paused, trying to remember the last time Hercules had ever asked anything of him, beyond that he be careful with his own life...and realized that Herc had never asked a thing of him, not since that terrible night, when Herc had begged for help to end that terrible agony. Not a single thing.

Looking down at the hands he'd clasped to still their shaking, he finally nodded. "Alright, Hercules, if it's what you really want," he said, trying to keep his voice strong. Resolutely, he lifted his head, to watch the road unfold ahead of them. It was just a place. It had been a good place, once. Maybe this visit could make it so, again.

Maybe...but, he doubted it.

They stopped for lunch at the old tavern, raising a few curious looks from the regulars. They wondered about the gaunt old man, face grayer than his hair, and the large, muscular, much younger man with him. But, the strangers just picked up a couple of bowls of stew, and mugs of ale, from the bar and moved to a quiet corner table, minding their own business.

Iolaus wasn't very hungry, and he knew Herc didn't need to eat, but he figured this was some kind of ritual Herc wanted to play out. They'd always stopped here before heading up the last climb to the pool. It was an old tradition. He toyed with his food, trying to shrug off his extreme reluctance to go further. He did not want to do this.

But, Herc had asked. So, he would go.

When they rode past the old cottage at the end of the village, Iolaus averted his eyes. He didn't want to see it. He didn't want to remember.

But, the old woman's voice echoed in his mind. 'I've a couple of good warm cloaks...ye may be needin' them,' she'd said. And, they'd gladly accepted the loan of them. He wondered what she'd thought when they had never come back.

They had to leave the wagon by the road, when they came to the old, long overgrown path they'd have to climb the rest of the way. Hercules tied the horses, one after the other, on a long lead, so that he could lead them up the steep hillside, while still leaving a hand free to support his friend.

Iolaus began the grim climb. As it wore on, he thought he didn't remember it being so long...or so steep. He didn't know if it was the steepness, the weight of his years, or the burden of memories he carried, but he found it hard going, and they had to stop several times to let him catch his breath, before they reached the top and came out on the small, high plateau, the turquoise pool shimmering in the late afternoon light.

Iolaus stood, rubbing his left arm, while Herc hobbled the horses, and set up the camp. He stared at the place where the earth had been blackened sixty years ago, and was pitifully relieved to see there was no evidence of what had been done here. He didn't bother looking for any trace of where he'd left Medea lying, knowing her bones would have been carried away by scavengers long ago. But, he couldn't seem to move. Couldn't seem to make his legs carry him further toward the place where Herc built the fire.

Finally, Hercules looked up and gazed at him, knowing how hard this was for his friend. He sighed, and rose to his feet, moving to stand before Iolaus, to place a supportive, comforting hand on his shoulder. "We had to come here, Iolaus...it's the right place. The right time," he said quietly, his eyes not quite meeting Iolaus'.

The old man studied the god's face...a face which had never grown old. And understood.

He looked around again, with new eyes, a new realization. This was the end of their journey together.

Iolaus knew he would die here.

And, suddenly, it was all right. More than all right. This was where his life should end, in the place where Hercules had died so very long ago.

It was the right place...and the right time. Long years ago, gods could it be more than ninety, he and Herc had begun their first adventure together here, as boys. It was fitting that their last adventure together should end here as well.

He nodded, and patted Herc's arm. "You're right, Hercules," he said quietly, then grinned, his eyes bright with teasing. "Damn it, Herc...all these years, and you're still always right!" Chuckling, he shook his head and moved past his friend, toward the pool. Herc fell in beside him, an arm around his frail shoulders.

They fished for their supper, and speared their dinner over the fire. Hercules shook out the blankets he'd brought in a pack, and draped one over Iolaus' shoulders. It was late summer, and the air was beginning to chill.

Iolaus shivered for a moment in memory, but then thrust it aside. Tonight wasn't a night for shadows. It was a night for thanksgiving and laughter. Relaxing, he felt the subtle magic of the place seep into his bones, bringing a peace he never thought he'd ever find here again. They laughed about their boyhood antics, shaking their heads at the thought of what Alcmene would have done if she'd known about all the mischief they'd gotten themselves into. Darkness fell, and with it, a companionable silence, as they each roamed their memories.

They slept well, and Iolaus woke the next morning feeling lighthearted. Herc had gone to gather some apples and pears for their breakfast before his old friend had awakened, and they enjoyed their light repast, washing it down with the crystal clear waters of the pool.

They spent the morning fishing, growing ever more hilarious as they vied for the biggest catch of the day. Like the boys they'd been, they taunted and teased one another, giggling at a fish that was particularly pitiful, taking mercy on it, and throwing it back into the water to grow up a bit.

It was reaching toward noon, when Iolaus' pole bowed and almost pulled from his hand, with the strength of the fish which had taken his bait and was now trying to plunge deep and away to freedom. Both knarled hands gripped the pole tightly, as Iolaus shouted gleefully, "I've got him, Herc! The granddaddy of them all!"

Resisting the urge to say it was only appropriate, figuring Iolaus wouldn't particularly appreciate a reference to his age at this moment, Hercules dropped his own pole and moved to help Iolaus to his feet, so that he could balance better, and use his weight, in what would be the last battle of his mortal life.

But, neither of them were thinking of that. They were caught in the pleasure of the moment, as Iolaus used his skill and strength to play out the fish, and gradually draw him back in. It was a mighty battle, and when he was finally successful, wresting his opponent from the pool, he whooped, in spirited excitement. The monster had to be forty pounds, if it was an ounce.

Holding it up triumphantly, Iolaus turned to Hercules, his face alight with joy, his eyes blazing with his triumph. "Gotcha, Herc! This has gotta be the biggest damn fish in that pool!" he crowed.

Shaking his head, laughing with his friend, enjoying his delight, Herc replied, "I concede, as I always have to the greatest hunter and fisherman Greece will ever know!"

"And so you should!" replied Iolaus, grinning, about to turn back to their camp, when the grin became a grimace of pain. Gasping, he doubled over, dropping the fish, his right hand pushing against his chest, over his heart, his left arm hanging numb and useless by his side.

Hercules was beside him in less than a heartbeat, his own heart clenching at Iolaus' moan of pain. He caught his friend before he could fall, and eased him to the ground, cradling the ancient, brittle body of his best friend in his arms against his chest, trembling as he realized what was happening.

He was again holding Iolaus in his arms, again going to watch him die.

Dimly, his eyes and teeth clenched against the tearing agony, panting for breath, Iolaus felt Herc's arms around him, but the more insistent reality was the great weight pressing down on his chest.

Not now...gods, not yet.

Gradually, the pain subsided, and he slumped against Herc's arms. Tentatively, he opened his eyes, dizzy for a moment, then found Herc's, glistening in the reflected light from the lake. "Hey," he whispered, unable to say more.

"Shhh," Hercules replied, gathering Iolaus into his arms and taking him back to the campsite, where he laid his friend upon a blanket, wrapped it around him, then pulled him back into those strong arms. Reaching for the waterskin, Hercules lifted it to his buddy's lips, holding it while he drank a few drops, to moisten his dry lips and throat.

Herc held Iolaus close, wishing there was something more he could do to ease the pain, but he didn't think there was time to brew a herbal tea, and he was loathe to let go of his buddy. Iolaus fought to steady his ragged breathing, and gradually, it slowed to a normal rate.

"Herc?" he murmured.

"I'm here, buddy," Hercules replied. "I'll always be here...."

"I know," Iolaus whispered, "Just as you always have been...." He cleared his throat, searching up into Hercules' eyes, seeing the love there. "I...I wish Medea hadn't...."

"It's okay, Iolaus," Herc hastened to reassure him, drawing him closer.

"I'm sorry, Herc...wish it could have been different. But...I can't wish away Elliara and the kids...." he paused, feeling somehow this admission was a betrayal of his friendship.

Hercules smiled down at him, seeing the confusion, shaking his head. "Of course, you can't. I wouldn't want you to...your happiness with her, and your family, meant everything to me. Rest, Iolaus...just rest now...."

But, Iolaus wasn't ready yet, he still had things to say, and knew his time was running out. Cutting Herc off, he cleared his throat, to speak as clearly as possible, "Can't...rest, yet, Herc. Soon. Just listen...okay? I want, I want to tell you, happy as I was with the family, I missed you. Missed us. Much as I love them all, no one ever meant more to me than yo..." his voice caught in a cough, and Herc lifted him a little higher in his arms, to ease his breathing. Getting his breath once more, Iolaus continued in a whisper, "I remember thinking...that if I could only stop time...I'd have stopped it back then...so that we could have... gone on...forever..."

His voice died to a sigh, and his eyes drifted closed.

Hercules bit his lip, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "I know, buddy...I've always known...." he murmured.

Iolaus' body convulsed again as another blast of agony ripped through his chest. Hercules held him tightly, blinking away his tears, holding him securely against his chest, as Iolaus' body relaxed and he slipped further away. His breathing was laboured, and increasingly uncertain, catching for long moments, until it seemed he'd never breathe again.

Hercules raised his face to the sky. "It's time!" he called, his voice ragged and desperate.

Zeus appeared by their side, and gazed down upon his son, and the old man he held in his arms. "Yes, I see that it is."

"Do it!" Hercules said urgently, knowing there were only moments left before Thanatos came.

Zeus nodded, as he knelt beside his son, gazing fondly at the dying elderly man. Then, he laid a hand on Iolaus' head, fulfilling the bargain he'd made with his son, and the promise he'd made to a bride groom long years before.

"You will live long, Iolaus, I promise you...longer than you can, perhaps, imagine."

A warm, golden glow surrounded the elderly hunter, the light burning away the age, the lines the years had traced, the gray that had captured the once blond curls...now blond once again. The glow faded, leaving a younger man in Hercules' arms, a man in his prime, dressed once again in the vest and leather pants, the gauntlets and boots, which had been his uniform in those bygone days.

Zeus stood. "You kept your part of our deal, Hercules, and I know there were times when it was not easy. Now, I have kept mine." Zeus smiled, and faded away.

* * *

"Iolaus?"

"Hmmm?" the hunter mumbled, reaching back toward consciousness.

"C'mon, Iolaus, wake up!" Hercules encouraged, giving the hunter a gentle shake.

"Alright, alright, I'm awake," Iolaus grumbled, blinking his eyes, wondering at first what he was doing in Herc's arms...and then remembering. His eyes found Herc's and he gave his friend a lopsided grin, "I'm still here?"

"Uh huh," Hercules affirmed, unable to contain his own grin of delight.

Iolaus thought the grin a little exuberant, given the fact that he was dying. He hadn't expected Herc to be so glad to be finally rid of him. Frowning a little, he took stock of his various aches and pains...his eyes widening when he realized he didn't have any. He felt...great? Yeah. Great!

Hercules was watching the awareness grow in Iolaus' eyes with a barely restrained feeling of jubilation, unable to restrain a low chuckle of delight.

Iolaus' eyes flashed back to his friend's dancing gaze. What the...? He felt fine, so he might as well sit up on his own. Expecting to have to struggle up from Herc's arms, awkward with age, he found himself sitting forward in one smooth motion, and he looked at his body with amazement...and then with stupefaction.

His mouth dropped open, and his wide blue eyes came back up to stare at Hercules. For a wild moment, he thought perhaps he was dreaming, and he slapped his body with his hands, reached up and touched his face, rubbing his hand across his mouth and then back through his hair.

"I'm not dead?" he stammered, looking around, relieved to see the pool and not the Elysium Fields.

"Nope," replied Hercules, shaking his head, grinning.

An answering grin started to break across Iolaus' face. "I'm young again?"

"So it seems," Hercules replied, enjoying this.

"For how long?" asked Iolaus, a slight trace of fear that it couldn't be real, couldn't last.

Hercules shrugged. "For as long as you want, I guess," he replied.

Iolaus shook his head in stunned amazement. "I'm immortal?" he breathed.

"Maybe...but even gods can die," Hercules temporized.

"Gods...I'M A GOD?" Iolaus squeaked. This was unbelievable! He had to be dreaming.

Hercules shrugged, "More an immortal mortal...but, I guess, technically, you have been worshiped as a god for thirty years now," Getting to his feet, Herc reached a hand down to help Iolaus to his.

"Can I throw bolts of energy?" Iolaus asked, a faint gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

"Ah...no," Herc said regretfully, shaking his head.

Iolaus frowned, wondering why not. Deciding he really wanted to know, he asked, "Why not?"

"Sorry, Iolaus...you weren't born a god, or with divine blood, so all you get is immortality," Hercules explained, genuinely sorry to disappoint his friend.

"Oh...well, yeah, I can understand that," Iolaus replied, pondering this. "So, do I have divine strength?" he asked, still hopeful.

Herc just grimaced, and shook his head. "'Fraid not," he said.

"Fly?" Iolaus continued, brows raised, hands on his hips.

"Nope, no flying," Herc looked away, having a hard time to keep himself from laughing out loud. He knew Iolaus was playing him along, buying the time he needed to get used to what had happened to him...the wonder of it.

Throwing his hands into the air, Iolaus exclaimed with feigned exasperation, "Then, what can I do?"

Behaving as if he was pondering this deeply, Hercules replied slowly, "Well, you can disappear and reappear where you want, live on Olympus and hang around with me for eternity, if you want to...."

If you want to....

Gods, it was all he had ever really wanted. The first and last wish of his life was to spend forever beside Hercules, guarding his back....

Overwhelmed by the reality of his dreams made real, Iolaus brought his fist to his lips, and turned quickly away, blinking the tears from his eyes. Concerned, Hercules moved to stand beside him, a hand on his shoulder.

"Iolaus? Are you alright? I thought...I thought you'd be happy about this." The god was suddenly unsure. Maybe he'd been wrong about his buddy's wishes. Maybe he'd made a bargain Iolaus didn't want to live with.

"Happy?" Iolaus responded, his voice cracking. He swallowed and took a deep breath. Turning, he looked up at Hercules, the love and gratitude blazing from his eyes, as he moved to wrap the bigger man in a tight embrace. Herc's arms came up and around him, hugging him back. "I never wanted anything else, Herc...I've been given wonderful gifts of love and family, but I never wanted anything but this."

Herc's own eyes burned then, and he had to blink against the stinging in his eyes. He let out a long sigh, relieved beyond words, his heart aching with its fullness.

Iolaus sniffed and pushed back, fingers wiping the moisture from his eyes and cheeks. Sniffing again, he asked, "How? How could this be possible?"

Herc looked down at the ground, his hands on his hips, then looked back up at Iolaus, "Well, you remember the bargain I made?"

"Yeah, how could I forget?" Iolaus responded, with a puzzled frown.

"Well, I bargained good behaviour for a long life for you, providing you died a natural death...a very long life, as it turns out," Hercules said, smiling softly.

And, finally, it all made sense. Why Hercules had so diligently refused to break his bargain, even when Iolaus was already an old man, when he'd already lived far longer than he'd ever dreamed. Why Herc had been so upset at his decision to fight that day, on the Plains below Mycenae. Gods, he'd been risking eternity...and Herc hadn't been free to tell him. He could only stand beside him, and guard his back, hoping Iolaus would survive. If he'd thrown his life away, if he'd died in battle rather than from natural causes, Hercules would have lost his gamble for eternity.

"Gods, Herc," Iolaus whispered. "How can I ever thank you for this?"

Herc just shook his head. "Iolaus, you don't ever need to thank me. Your life is my gift to myself, as much or more than it is a gift to you. I missed you buddy. Every damned day. I couldn't face the thought of eternity without you by my side. It would have been...empty," he said quietly, but fervently. "You're my partner, Iolaus, my best friend, the best part of me. I've told you before, I'm lost without you."

Iolaus just gazed up at him in wonder for a long moment, until a broad smile broke slowly across his face, lighting Hercules' world. Looking around at the forested glade, drinking in its bright beauty, he shook his head, then threw his hands into the air in a gesture of wild abandon, as he spun in a little dance of glory. Laughing, he dropped his arms and turned to face his friend.

"So, Herc, buddy of mine, what do we do now?" he teased.

"Now?" Herc looked up and around at the world, shrugged, and then looked back down at Iolaus, "Now, we go after the monsters, and the warlords, and the rest of the generally disreputable types that have been getting away with murder for too long. Ready to kick some butt?" Herc waited with one brow raised, a grin lighting his face.

"Bet on it, buddy," Iolaus assured him, unable to restrain a giggle of anticipation, sweeping out an arm as he turned with a bright grin. "Just lead the way!"

Laughing, the two buddies turned to clear their camp, to begin a new endless life of adventure together. Leaving the place where their mortal beings had both died, and where they had both attained immortality. They set out, Herc's arm draped over Iolaus' shoulder, searching for wrongs to right, the vulnerable to protect, evil to defeat...and to have the time of their lives...for all the time to come.

Forever.

Finis

Disclaimer: While I have made rather free of the myth concerning Hercules' demise, the essential details, of the cursed cloak, the terrible pain, his death on the pyre built by Iolaus and his transformation into a god by Zeus, are true to the original legend. The legends also tell of how Medea chose a similar means of cursing the clothing of her children and of Jason's bride on the day he was to be married. The rest is conjecture, to fill in the blanks of Iolaus' life after Herc's death and transformation, to explain how Iolaus came to have a family, how at the age of seventy he won 'one day' of youth to defeat Ares' forces, lived to the ripe old age of one hundred and came to be worshipped as a god in his own right. And, of course, to explain how these two lifelong friends, brothers of the heart, and soulmates, would come to share eternity, forever protecting the vulnerable, forever battling the forces of evil and chaos.


End file.
